


Truth Will Rise

by sifshadowheart



Series: Frey of Asgard [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Frey is Over Everyone's Shit, Gearhead!Frey, Gen, Implied Frigga/Hogun, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Multi, Non-canon pairings, The Snark is Strong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-02-07 06:13:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 56,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12834996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sifshadowheart/pseuds/sifshadowheart
Summary: Odin located Loki after months of the god being MIA.  Only the shapeshifting god has picked up a new eye color and some interesting allies.  Covers the events of the Avengers, Iron Man 3, and Thor 2.  Goes very non-canon.  Slash





	1. Prologue

** Truth Will Rise **

**_ A Frey of Asgard Story _ **

**_ Crossover: Harry Potter/Thor/Marvel, et al _ **

**_By Sif Shadowheart_ **

_Disclaimer:   The content of Harry Potter and the Marvelverse including their characters are the property of Ms. Rowling, Marvel, et al.  This is a work of fan-authored fiction written for pure entertainment with no monetary gain acquired or otherwise attached._

This story takes place following _The Frost Prince_ and the short fic in my How to Train Your Godling collection _In Vino Veritas._ However, if you haven’t read the latter all you really need to know is that Thor stumbled on (and then through) one of Loki’s paths between worlds which let him get a different view of both his brother and Frey, while training up some of his seriously-neglected-in-canon powers.

**_Author’s Note: This is the story that actually came_ first _to me when I was bitten by the HP/Avengers bug.  I remain hopelessly enamored with the idea of anti-hero Loki, and desperately wish he would get the redemption story in cannon that Tom Hiddleston’s portrayal of him in film deserves.  Alas, I doubt it will ever happen, still I have the opportunity to give him one myself.  This story takes the place of the first Avengers film in the MCU-verse, and will cover the events of that movie as I envision them going post-Lokison and post-Frost Prince as well as the shorter fics in this series._**

**_Herein we will begin to see some of the foundation-building for pairings, and as always with my fics you can expect healthy helpings of both A/U and Slash._ **

All that said **enjoy!**

**Prologue**

_Let no one think of me that I am humble or weak or passive; let them understand I am of a different kind: dangerous to my enemies, loyal to my friends. To such a life glory belongs._  
-Euripedes, Medea

…

_Ymir International Headquarters, Denver, Colorado_

“Are you _certain_ this is the path you wish to take, young one?”  Jormangandr asked, arching a brow in that iconic motion all of Loki’s blood seemed to have inherited from the God of Mischief and Chaos.  “After all…they’re only humans.”

“That’s the problem other evolved species have with this planet.”  Frey commented with pseudo-idleness as he twirled the pen he’d used to sign the contracts laying on the table in front of them – and the topic currently under discussion by the three heads of multinational corporations, however new (relatively) his Ymir International might be compared to Jor’s Ouroboros Consolidated or Fenrir’s Fenris Enterprises.

His uncles had to do _something_ to keep themselves entertained while they kept one eye on Midgardr after all, and being of Loki’s blood by their mother Hela, they weren’t exactly _welcome_ in Asgard.  Laufey and the rest of their great-grandbera’s brood were always fun to visit now that the relation is known, but Jor and Fen were raised among the souls of humans…they were their playmates and their tutors, and humans were still where their interests laid.  Though, whatever love of man they had didn’t stop Jor from playing at “Nessie” or pretending to be a great sea monster every other week or Fen from running with the few remaining wild packs of wolves.

They each had their interests, Jor in particular liked to occasionally gallivant off into the Universe Cosmic.

But in many ways, Midgardr had become their home, a feeling only reinforced the more that their nephew – since calling Frey their _uncle_ just sounded all kinds of wrong – spent so much time there these days.

Frey continued his thought: “You underestimate humans.  Even those who enjoy them, like you two.”

Fenrir snorted.

As if they could underestimate a species that was doing a damn good job of destroying their own home.

“I’m serious.”  Frey rolled his eyes so hard they almost rolled right out of his head.  “You do.  But so do they underestimate – and in this particular case _overestimate_ – themselves…and what they’re capable of.”  He smirked.  “I’ll take their money, build what they desire.  And ensure that it can _never_ be turned against me or mine.”

“Clever and cunning.”  Fenrir allowed.  “Just like your father.  But can you follow through?”

“Well.”  Frey stood, tossing his last words over his shoulder.  “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Okay.”  Jor stood laughing a bit at his nephew’s panache.  “Say what you like about him being a cocky brat…”

“He _is_ a cocky brat.”

“…but he’s entertaining as all hell.”

“…that too.  Maybe.  I suppose.”

“Well.”  Jor drawled, following in his nephew’s footsteps with his twin on his heels.  “There’s worse ways to spend eternity than by joining in – and being entertained by – whatever latest madcap scheme Frey cooks up.”

“Stop making sense.  I just want to be exasperated in _peace_ and left to sulk.”

“As you wish…”

“Just _stop_.  Asshole.”

…

Frey had barely stepped from the shadows he’d used to take leave of his “uncles” in Colorado into his lush Beacon Hill apartment in Boston, shedding the cunning businessman as easily as he did his designer suit coat – after all they might have been alone in his office there but one must keep up appearances as his Far had been wont to say when he visited his former-godling son at Camp Half-Blood or Hogwarts – when someone _else_ also stepped from another shadow to join him.

Although, given the being in question, it was less a stepping _from_ shadow as Frey did and more simply stepping out of a shadowed portion of the room.

Thor had discovered many talents in the wake of Frey’s father’s – Loki’s – fall from the Bi-Frost and the discovery of Thor’s own adopted status on the behalf of his – and Loki’s – beloved mother Frigga, but shadow-walking wasn’t among them.

Though _why_ the blond god had been lurking in Frey’s living room waiting for him when he could have just rang him – Frey _had_ taught him how to use a bloody phone whilst babysitting the overgrown behemoth in the godsforsaken desert Odin dropped him in exile last year – was beyond him.

Honestly.

Frey was nearly certain that too much time in Asgard – where the pace was slow and ever unchanging…read: _boring_ – was bad for one’s brain.

All the better for him then that his Far tended to spend – previously anyway – as little time there as was politically wise while Frey – except for a single, and very _visible_ appearance – never ventured to the Realm Eternal at all.

“Has he…?”  Frey trailed off, feeling near-desperate for word.

Yes, following Draco’s advice had helped calm him, but feeling the distinct _lack_ of his father Loki’s presence in this world, in his life, when it had been so strong and vibrantly felt before had taken its toll on him.

And if Thor was visiting _him_ with word rather than the other way around…then his father was still far beyond Frey’s abilities to sense, making him hopeful that it was Frigga – and most definitely _not Odin_ – who had located him.

“Yes,” Thor’s voice rumbled, a bright grin shining to match dancing storm-blue eyes.  “Loki has been found.”

“Tell me.”  Frey demanded, waving Thor over to a chair that he absently reinforced with magic to bear the weight of Thor in his full – if commonly worn – armor.  At least it wasn’t the heavy golden armor that the bearded blonde wore on feast days and royal occasions.  “Tell me everything.”

The grin blinkered out as if it had never been.

“’Tis not all a fine tale I am afraid, warrior Frey.”  Thor reported mournfully.  “Rather…I am afraid that only the news of his being alive is what any of us would consider glad tidings.”

Frey waved that off with a scoff.

His father was alive after _months_ of silence and relentless searching for even a _hint_ of his fate after his fall.

Anything else that came along with that news…well.

That would just have to be _handled_.

And if Thor was here, _now_ , then Frey had a damn good idea of just _who_ was on deck to handle it.

Still…it could be worse.

Odin could have come himself.

Anything less and Frey could manage to steer his way through whatever disaster loomed in the wake of finding his father and bringing him home, as Chuck’s promised _gift_ of possibilities had shown him _was_ possible…just incredibly tickly and difficult to manage.  One misstep could cost him – and his father – everything.  Frey couldn’t _afford_ such a thing to come to pass.  He had to step carefully, keep his instincts under control, and do what he did best: guide events from the shadows.

No matter the odds.

No matter the cost.

His father _would_ come home.

Frey would bring him home.

Or Yggdrasil help those who stood in his way.


	2. Lost and Found

** Truth Will Rise **

Author’s Note: The title for this story came from Shinedown’s song “How Did You Love”.  The lyrics really apply to the take on the Avengers events I’ve gone with and the underlying issues of Frey and Loki’s father/son relationship and the greater cosmic politics that are going on in the background.  Please enjoy.

As always, where dialogue is awesome I’ve seen no reason to tinker with it, so some speech has come straight from the Avengers (2012) movie.

**Chapter One: Lost and Found**

_Elsewhere:_

“The Tesseract has awakened…”  The Other’s echoing voice reported to his commander.  “It is on a _little_ world…a _human_ world.”  He – it? – continued.  “They would wield _It’s_ power…but our _ally_ knows It’s workings as they never will.  He is ready to lead.  And _our_ force, _our_ Chitauri, will follow.  The little world, his.  The universe, _yours_.  And the humans…?  What can they do but _burn_?”

…

_Project PAGASUS Base, Earth:_

“All personnel, evacuation orders have been confirmed, please make your way to your assigned egress routes…”  Called out with eerie calm over the base as a helicopter landed, bringing with it Commander Fury and his second-in-command Agent Maria Hill to meet the waiting Agent Phil Coulson.  “This is _not_ a drill.”

“How bad is it?”  Fury asked one of his – if not _the_ – most reliable men and asset handlers he had under his command.  Coulson was a scary – even to Fury – crossbreed between Supernanny and a SpecOps soldier.  If there was anyone he trusted to give a decent sit-rep it was Coulson.

Which made what came out of his best man’s mouth that much more worrying.

“That’s the problem, sir.”  Coulson said, voice as calm as always but with a steely edge of concern in his eyes.  “We don’t know.”

…

_Boston, Mass.:_

Frey snapped awake from a deep sleep, a joyful smile bursting out across his face.

He knew his father would find a way back to them – to _him_.

And if he knew _anything_ about the Tesseract, the pulsing deep through the ley-lines of Earth, almost as if the Earth itself had gained a beating heart, was his Far…though whether Loki would still be _Loki_ or if Frey would have to find a way to bring him back to himself as his Far had once done for him after a too-long time away was the question.

Closing his eyes, Frey sent off a series of spells to various places – to his children in another world letting them know that he might be tied up for sometime…but that he would see them in their dreams, to his Grandmother Frigga, his Grandparents on Jotunheim, all warning them of the Tesseract’s awakening…and what Frey would bet his left nut it heralded.

Loki was coming home…at least physically.

It would be up to the rest of them to bring him back fully if what Frey feared after hearing Thor’s tale came true.

No matter.

Slipping from the bed, Frey clothed himself in his armor and weapons, wrapping himself in invisibility and leaving a clone in his bed…just in case.

His father was coming home, and depending on how things played out, he might need a friendly face to welcome him…and if _not_ then it was best that Frey saw for himself just how things played out instead of relying on what would undoubtedly be a biased version of events from S.H.I.E.L.D.

As apparently, Coulson – or his superiors – had decided to disregard Frey’s advice and had done something…well… _stupid_ in playing with the Tesseract.

If he was honest with himself – as after his former dip into Calypso-induced insanity he always tried to be – Frey was eagerly anticipating his moment for a much-deserved “I told you so…”

…

_The Tesseract Chamber, Underground_

After dismissing Coulson to hurry up the evacuation and Hill to ensure the Phase 2 prototypes were shipped out, Fury strode into the Tesseract chamber to the sight of an erratic Dr. Erik Selvig and a pulsing Cosmic Cube that sent a creeping-cold tickling down his spine and lifted the hair on the back of his neck.

As if the damn thing waking itself up – a spontaneous event or so Coulson reported – wasn’t enough, he had a half-mad scientist on his hands and a twitchy Barton itching to shoot said scientist in the ass.

There was also something…off to him, something he couldn’t quite pin-point, upgrading this from a problem to a grade-A clusterfuck in zero-point-two seconds.

Just how he wanted to spend his Friday night.

“Talk to me Doctor.”  He commanded.

“Director.”  Erik nearly stumbled over the title as he stood from his slump next to the energy ring that they were using to stabilize the Tesseract, and moving to meet the formidable head of S.H.I.E.L.D., Frey watching all of the by-play from the shadows next to the door – especially that little head-butting routine between Hill and Fury over whatever _Phase Two_ was…and making a mental note to do some deep-diving into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files to find out later. 

Magic was a wonderful thing…and very good at hacking if you know how to use it right.

And that was leaving off his considerable training he’d sought out – both in this universe and others – after he’d seen the level of game SHIELD brought to the table.

Unlike in other universes and other worlds, the Universe Cosmic and the Yggdrasil were almost perfectly balanced, allowing tech to dominate one and magic the other, whilst still working in _both_.

It was a wonderful place and time to be alive…especially for an Avatar of Chaos like Frey.

So many toys to play with…

“Is there anything we know for _certain_?”  Fury cut off whatever Selvig was going to lead with.

“The Tesseract is misbehaving.”  Selvig’s speech was almost a slur – concerning for both Fury and Frey, though neither knew of the other’s thoughts on the matter, and in Fury’s case wasn’t even aware – fully – of Frey’s presence.

“Is that supposed to be funny?”  Fury arched an incredulous brow.

“No, it’s not supposed to be funny at all.”  Selvig turned and fell into step with Fury as the Director made his way over to the cube in question.  “The Tesseract isn’t only _active_ she’s…behaving.”

Fury noted the pronoun but didn’t think anything of it – a direct contrast to Frey who winced.

The Tesseract had sunk its hooks into Selvig, who he remembered from New Mexico.

If the Doctor was lucky, he’d survive the link…and maybe be able to form coherent sentences.  If not…well.  A helmet at least would detract from the middle-aged hair loss the doctor was currently undergoing.

“I assume you pulled the plug?”

“She’s an energy source.”  Selvig restrained himself from rolling his eyes but it was an effort.  “We turn off the power and she keeps right on going.  If she reaches peak level…”

“You’re prepared for this Doctor.”  Fury cut him off.  “Harnessing energy from space.”

“We don’t have the harness.”  Selvig told him, speech slowing even more.  “The calculations are far from complete.  And she’s throwing off interference – radiation,” Frey held in a snort.  Also known as sinking _her_ hooks into whatever idiot got too close or too invested.  It never failed to amaze him sometimes how people who are so damn smart – like Hermione Granger for instance, or now Dr. Selvig – could be so fucking stupid at the same time.  “Nothing harmful,” Frey’s arse it wasn’t.  “Just small amounts of gamma radiation.”

“That can be harmful.”  Fury pointed out in his too-calm, trying not to strangle the genius voice that he’d perfected after years of dealing with Stephen Strange and Tony Stark.  “Where is Agent Barton?”

“The Hawk?”  Selvig scoffed, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.  “Up in his nest as usual.”

Frey was surprised that Fury hadn’t spotted Hawkeye…but then, Fury was also working with a deficit, being both plain-vanilla-mortal and down an eye.

…

While Barton was reporting to Fury, Frey took a chance in the absence of Hawkeye’s hyper-vigilant gaze to take a closer look at the problems he’d spotted – both Dr. Selvig and the fucking Tesseract, confirming what his father had told him years before.

It was a damn Infinity Stone, shaped to the will and want of Bor Burison and then lost on Earth.

No wonder it was sinking it’s hooks into humans right-left-and-center from what he’d read on the Red Skull disaster.

It would have to be broken from the ill-fitting use that Asgard had purposed it to and put into the keeping of a guardian…someone trustworthy with the Space Stone…but that was a worry for another time… _after_ it had been used to bring his father home.

Fury and Hawkeye came back to stand on the Tesseract riser, Frey melting back into the shadows at the sides of the room as Barton finished his report while the Tesseract spiked.

“If there’s been any tampering sir, it wasn’t at this end.”

“At _this_ end?”  Fury was using his scary-calm voice again as he stared down Barton.

“Yeah…”  Barton drawled, staring at the glowing blue cube.  “The cube, it’s a doorway into the other end of space, right?”

Not really, Frey thought to himself, but close enough given the mortals’ limited understanding of Infinity Stones and the crude use Bor had put it to.

Barton shrugged, looking back at his boss.  “Doors open from both sides.”

In timing with Barton’s rather accurate summation of the situation, a burst of energy came from the cube, sending out a shockwave and shaking the base, even as an eager grin lit up Frey’s hidden face, an energy that Frey recognized.

He was coming.

It was only a matter of time, now.

They would need someone of, say, Tony Stark’s or Bruce Banner’s caliber to shut it down now, and given the threat level that SHIELD saw both of those men as, Director Fury was going to find himself shit out of luck to stop what was coming – or rather _who_.

The Tesseract pulsed and throbbed with power, as the hair on Frey’s arms lifted and the gathered mortals stared in shock – and in some cases awe – as the energy swirled bright blue and white and then _leapt_ from the Tesseract in a beam of power, a portal forming on the far end of the room.

If they’d had the frame of mind to do so – as Frey did – they would have been able to look _beyond_ the dark blue portal edged in bright blue and white power from the Tesseract, and see a strange star scape beyond.

One that Frey took careful note of – his uncles would be _most_ interested in investigating just where their beloved grandfather had been held captive for more than a year…in their time.

Who knew how long it had been for Loki.

Or what had been done to him there.

Frey felt Loki pass through, and saw him crouch, echoing the movement instinctively even as the power spiked once more and then _shattered_ throwing the staring mortals back off their feet and blowing out the electronics in the bunker, leaving only the emergency lights to kick on in their wake and shaking the entire complex fiercely, scientist and other SHIELD personnel alike struggling to keep their footing in the wake of the portal collapse.

Armed agents moved towards the huddled form on the far stage of the room, even as a male lifted his ebony head and turned eyes a shocking bright blue onto the room.

Frey held in a curse, knowing how strong Loki’s senses were – even likely compromised as he quickly scanned his father.

Wounds – old and new – littered what pale flesh Frey could see, and the eyes in an unnatural color, one he had never known his father to take, looked sunken in a sallow, sleep-deprived face that was far too thin.

Fists clenched, and Frey bit back the scream of rage that rose up in this throat.

There was no question – not to him, no matter what madness…and it clearly was that given the look in those blue eyes…his father undertook – his father had been _compromised_.

Now it was up to Frey – and whoever he could manipulate, threaten, or beg into helping – to bring him back to himself.

And he had a feeling he would need to start with that fucking glowing-blue-stone-topped spear that his father held in one shaky-but-strong hand.

Loki rose to his feet, his heavy breaths the only sound in the massive concrete chamber for long moments, and then Fury’s voice called out into the dim shadows of the room, breaking the tableau and waking Frey from his vengeful rage.

“Sir.”  Fury called out, even as he knew it would ninety-nine-point-nine percent likely end up being useless.  “Please put down, the spear.”

Loki looked down at the weapon in his hands, eyes flickering green a moment, seeming confused for a split-second over how it had come to be there, even as his son watched from the cover of shadows and his own power and _itched_ to drag it from his hands and shatter it against the stone floor as the blue stone pulsed and Loki lifted his head at once and all hints of confusion washed away as bright blue took over his eyes once more, lifting the spear and letting off a blast of power that – other than making Fury and Barton hit the floor and destroying some equipment – did nothing but confuse the shit out of Frey.

Whoever was riding Loki…they clearly didn’t have a fucking _clue_ about his powers or how to use them if _that_ was the best they could do.

A minor energy ball from a pre-purposed tool like that spear.

Gunfire sounded and green eyes flashed, even as the bullets hit uselessly against Loki’s armor, the warrior in his father coming out to play as Loki tore through one SHIELD agent after another, spear flashing and slashing…but all without even so much as a conjured blade or an ice-dagger.

Frey smirked, even as the useless bloodshed saddened him.

It would be difficult, he was sure, to… _work_ things the way he needed them to go…but not _impossible_.

Otherwise he might as well trade in his title as Avatar of Chaos and settle into playing house with whatever princess he was sure his grandmother was already considering putting forward as a potential bride.

A throwing dagger from Loki’s belt flew, and agents fell one after another while Loki shrugged off bullets and tore through the bunker.

When no threats were left standing, Loki strode over to the slumped form of Hawkeye even as Barton climbed back onto his feet from where he’d been blasted, Loki catching his punch with absent ease.

“You have heart.”  Loki noted, a manic light in his eyes as the spear glowed blue and power flowed from it into Barton’s chest were the point rested, climbing up his neck and blackening his eyes before the power waned, leaving bright-blue irises in its wake, Loki’s fading to a confused green for a moment – Frey once more noting the change – before snapping back, quicker this time, to the same blue as Barton’s.

Fury watched all this, even as he slipped quietly to his feet and packed away the Tesseract while Loki made his way turning man after man into his personal minions, each conversion taking less and less time for the eye-color-switch on Loki to be made.

“Please don’t.”  Loki’s smooth tones, complete with the All-Speak accent that was almost identical to British in this world sounded far-too-sweet to his son’s ears given the situation in which they found themselves, a situation that Frey was forming plans within schemes within plots to come out in their favor…a large part of which he couldn’t even devise until he knew _who_ was trying to ride his father like a parasitic brain-worm.  Or, you know, how Voldemort did Quirrell.

He really, really hoped he wasn’t dealing with another Quirrellmort situation…lifting a remote possession or even some form of distance-control was a hell of a lot easier than an _actual, physical_ possession as he’d had cause to learn on his newest adventure _elsewhere_ to… _cool his shit_ as Draco had put it after Loki had fallen from the Bi-Frost and Odin had been less-than-eager to help retrieve or even _find_ him.

Unfortunately, operating with an information deficit as he was and knowing what a bitch Fate likes to be, Frey knew that the odds were high he could do nothing but _watch_ lest he risk throwing events towards an even worse future than this one was slated to be.

So watch he would, and learn, and in the end he would shove that nifty little spear right up whoever’s ass had put it in his father’s hands…after using it to turn Loki into little more than a mindless-drone-shadow-of-himself.

“I still need that.”  Loki said, turning from his latest minion-acquisition to the leather-clad black man who was giving him unfortunate flashbacks to Odin…given the eyepatch and all.  Loki didn’t know what was going on – not fully – and had some serious gaps in his memory that were worth more than a little concern.  But what he _did_ know was the Other…and had no intention of ever returning to that being’s control, even if it meant burning Thor’s favorite mudball to cinders and ash.

Fury did not turn, did not take so much as a single glance towards the men that were lost to him either through death or this _being’s_ magic spear.

“This doesn’t have to get any messier.”  He said, projecting his voice back behind him.

“Of course it does.”  Loki replied with a manic grin that matched the unhinged look of a wounded animal striking out in his eyes.  “I’ve come too far for anything else.”

That had Fury turning, and Dr. Selvig looking up from where he was feeling for a pulse on his friend’s neck.

“I am Loki,” he said, with stately slowness.  “Of Asgard.  And I am burdened with _glorious purpose_.”

“Loki?”  Selvig gasped, stumbling to his feet.  “Thor’s brother?”

Frey winced.  He didn’t know what mindset his father was in – or even what he remembered, if anything at all if he was introducing himself as being “Of Asgard” – but even if he was completely healthy and in his right mind _that_ wasn’t the best way to talk to the proud god.

Fury held up a hand as he saw black rage cloak that aristocratic face.

“We have no quarrel with your people.”

“An ant has no quarrel with a boot.”  Loki shot back with a bored look on his face.

“You planning on stepping on us?”  Fury asked with mock-surprise.

“I come with _glad_ tidings.”  Loki continued as he added to his collection of servants.  “Of a world made free.”

“Free from what?”  Fury almost rolled his eyes.  Seriously, if he wasn’t buying time…what was _with_ villain’s and monologues anyway?

“Freedom.”  Loki answered.  “Freedom is life’s great lie.  Once you accept that, in your heart.”

Doctor Selvig was lost to the spear as Loki whispered: “You will know peace.”

“Yeah you say peace.”  Fury drawled, even as Frey held in a snicker.  If nothing else, puppet-Far and Fury were good for entertainment.  “I kinda think you mean the other thing…”

Barton broke in.

“Sir, Director Fury is stalling.  This place is about to blow, drop a hundred feet of rock on us.”

Frey dared a risk and ghosted close to the spear, trying to get a _sense_ of it.  What he felt…  He shook his head at the irony.

And on the Wheel turned.

What other reason could there be for not one but _two_ Infinity Stones coming active on Earth at the same time?

Still, he’d need more time with it to figure it out…and if Barton was right, and there was no reason to believe he wasn’t, time was something he didn’t have.

Frey took one last look around as Barton shot Fury, taking one last chance and shooting a tagging spell at Loki and _hoping_ that who or whatever was riding him didn’t have enough control to sense it, before stepping away and back to his apartment in Boston for SHIELD to come roust him out.

Asgard and Loki being mentioned would bring them to his door…and Fury would have to find his own way out even as the spy-of-spies managed to run, holding his gunshot wound, from the room.

Both the Director and the World Security Council were on Frey’s shit-list for messing with the Tesseract in the first place, he wasn’t about to give them more info on _him_ to save one of them when they were capable of doing it their-damn-selves.

Rolling his shoulders, Frey sent his armor and weapons back to their caches and dismissed his clone, settling in to wait.

One thought rolled through his mind, even as his brain shifted into high-gear putting what pieces of information he had together and sending his magic seeking out through his wifi-enabled tablet to start digging through SHIELD’s firewalls – or wherever else it found anything to do with the Tesseract.

He wondered, given the threat level his father now posed, just _whose_ door SHIELD would knock on first?

…

Phil stared in shock from his helicopter – and no little amount of worry – as the complex holding his boss sank into the ground and more importantly lights from vehicles holding his _compromised husband_ disappeared into the night.

Lifting his walkie-talkie, he followed protocol even as everything in him screamed to follow the vehicles.

The best chance he had of finding out _what the ever loving fuck happened_ was sticking to protocol and working to get his husband back _with_ SHIELD instead of going rogue and working around them.

At least, that was what he told himself as Fury’s voice came over the air.

“The Tesseract has been taken by a hostile force.  I have men down.”  The commander announced brusquely.  “Hill?”

“A lot of men still under.”  Her voice was tired and weak.  “I don’t know how many survivors.”

The _if-any_ went unspoken between the three leaders of SHIELD.

“Sound the general call.”  Fury ordered, Coulson rapidly putting together a list of which assets they’d been to beg, borrow, coerce, or steal to make a recovery mission viable.  “I want every living soul not working rescue looking for that briefcase.”

Hill took a ragged breath as Coulson set to work.

“Yes, sir.”

“Coulson, get back to base.  This is a Level Seven.”

Coulson smiled, despite his worry, as Level Seven just made the chances of him being reunited – in one piece – with his husband that much higher.

“As of right now…we are at war.”

…

Less than an hour later, Coulson hung up the phone with Natasha, who took Clint’s… _absence_ almost as badly as he himself did, before dialing another number – one that he wasn’t _technically_ authorized to dial.

He was on the move already to Stark Tower to apprise the giant-pain-in-his-ass that was Ironman to suit up and _pretend_ to play well with others for however long it took to get this situation…resolved…and was multitasking with every turn of the SUV’s wheels.

Raising the privacy screen between himself and the low-level agent driving him, Coulson reached into his pocket and activated a little device that Pepper had passed his way – ostensibly as a gift for helping pull Tony out of his suicidal-spiral, the two might have split after the disaster of a birthday party but she’d stayed on as Chief Operations Officer for Stark Enterprises, Tony taking back the Chief Executive Officer seat once his lease on life was renewed last year – but the little cube of dull metal had all the hallmarks of being a Tony Stark original.

A Tony Stark original that kept any-and-all of Phil’s communications that either SHIELD or Nick would disapprove of truly _private_.

The rookie agent would report Coulson’s move – no doubt – with the screen…but given that his husband was playing flying-monkey for an alien would-be-conqueror Nick would write it off as him taking a moment, however brief, to mourn the likelihood that Phil wasn’t getting his husband back.

An assumption that _assumed_ Phil was willing to keep playing by the WSC’s _rules_ that had been set down regarding one Dr. Frey Black, origins unknown.

Fuck that.

His husband was… _gone_ , and Nick hadn’t made the call to bring in the _only_ known source of information on Asgard and possibly Loki that they _had_ , spouting that Dr. Black’s origins were suspect at the very least and was untrustworthy at best.

Again… _fuck that_.

Phil had gotten to know Frey, at least a little bit, and had seen first-hand the amount of damage the man-possible-alien-person was capable of dishing out.

They _needed_ that on their side if the video files retrieved from the SHIELD hard drives of footage of the Tesseract chamber following Loki’s arrival was any indication.

Phil was _getting his husband back_ , even if he had to deal from the bottom of the deck to do it.

Nick could yell at him later – or whatever the commander felt was appropriate punishment – once the crisis was averted.

They _needed Frey_.

And Phil was making the call to bring him in…Nick would just have to deal with it, like Phil was dealing with Nick’s decision to bring in Tony-fucking-Stark.

…

The ringing phone had Frey looking at it in bemusement.

So, Fury hadn’t decided to bring him in by force after his father’s little bit of show-and-tell, but had gone with the sweet approach and was going to _ask_ instead.

That was a bit of a surprise.

Given the loss of men that had to have resulted from the portal collapse, Frey thought that he was going to have to talk himself out of handcuffs and an interrogation cell just for the possibility of being _other_ in the same species-range as Loki.

Nice to be proven wrong about another’s nefarious nature every once in a while.

It was… _rare_ to say the least.

“Black.”  He answered, eyebrows shooting up in surprise when he recognized the voice on the other end – and not from playing silent-spectator to his father’s dramatic entrance to Earth.

It was a _bit_ over the top…even for a showman of Loki’s caliber.

“We have a situation.”  Phil said simply, as the lights of Stark Tower lit up his side window and the rookie in the driver’s seat set the engine to idle.

“I felt the shockwaves from here.”  Frey told him honestly.  Anyone with even an iota of power would have, and they already knew he was more than his simple – if complex – cover would seem.  “I thought I warned you against doing anything… _rash._ ”

“I was overruled.”  Phil gave in and sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Regardless…I need you to come in, as a consultant if nothing else though I doubt anyone would say no to having a fighter like you on our side.”  Once they got over him making this insubordinate decision anyway.

“What happened?”

“Does the name Loki of Asgard mean anything to you?”  Phil knew it had to – at least a little – given the slim volume of information Frey had supplied him on the major players, mainly royalty, of the Yggdrasil universe that Earth was – somehow – a part of.  But even with seeing Loki in action, he didn’t expect Frey’s response.

“I’ll meet you at the helicarrier.”

“How do you…”  Phil started to ask, then stared in shock at the blinking screen on his specially-designed Starkphone, another “Pepper” gift from Stark.

Frey had hung up, leaving Phil hanging on both how Frey knew _of_ the helicarrier, and second of _where it was_ , let alone that it was the rally point against Loki.

“How does he _do that_?”  Phil breathed, then snapped out of it.

It wasn’t _entirely_ unexpected, given that Frey had “felt the shockwaves” from the portal collapse, and beaten SHIELD to New Mexico last year.

Oh yeah, there was more to Dr. Frey Black than met the eye…and if it had been under any other circumstances, Phil would have relished the opportunity to have him close at hand and continue puzzling him out.

Still, Phil was going to _ruin_ Stark’s week…and that was something at least.

…

_SHEILD Helicarrier:_

“This is out of line, Director.”  One of the faceless members of the World Security Council drawled.  “You’re dealing with forces you can’t control.”

Fury stood, surrounded by clear screens that showed nothing but the faceless men and women that SHIELD – ostensibly – answered to, shoulders easy, hands behind his back, as cool as an arctic winter despite one of his best operatives being mind-controlled and another grieving – one misstep away from going rogue – and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

“You ever been in a war, councilor?”  Fury asked, already knowing the answer from previous meetings.  “In a fire-fight?  Did you feel an overabundance of _control_?”

“You’re saying this… _Asgard_ is declaring war on our planet?”  If so…that was less than good news for the speaking councilman, one Alexander Pierce, and his plans decades in the making that were so _close_ to fruition.

“Not _Asgard_.”  Fury shook that off.  “From what I understand, this _Loki_ has been missing from there for some time.”

“According to a possible, what is it, _Aesir_?”  Another councilmember, this one a woman, snapped, having read the report put together by Agent Coulson and Director Fury on the New Mexico fiasco, including the dossier provided by one “Dr. Frey Black,” who most of the council had wanted to take into custody immediately…only to be persuaded otherwise given that Dr. Black had never had so much as a parking ticket as well as the damage he was capable of creating if they tried to take him in on trumped-up charges…no matter how covertly done.

“Yes.”  Fury snapped back.

“He can’t be working alone.”  Pierce pointed out.  “What about this Dr. Black, is he involved in this?”

“Not so far as Coulson was able to ascertain,” though they would be having _words_ over inviting an entity of unknown loyalties into this mess.  Stark and Banner at least were predictable, if occasionally uncontrollable.  “Moreover, Dr. Black has already offered his assistance in the past as a liaison, and again now.  From all accounts…he is stationed here to keep an eye on Earth and intervene if _their_ problems come here.”

Wrong, Nick was so wrong, but he wouldn’t know it for some time.

“And the other one?”  The woman asked.  “This Loki’s…brother?”

“Our intelligence – from more than Dr. Black, mind you – says Thor’s not a hostile.”  Nick shrugged that off.  “But he’s worlds away – we can’t depend on him to help either, and Dr. Black is an unknown no matter how seemingly helpful and non-hostile to humans.  It’s up to us.”

“Which is why.”  Another councilor spoke up, another man.  “You _should_ be focusing on Phase Two, it was designed for _exactly_ this…”

“Phase Two isn’t ready.”  Fury cut him off.  “Our enemy _is_.  We _need_ a response team.”

“The Avengers Initiative,” Pierce took back the reins of the conversation.  “Was shut down.”

And for good reason, as they were a direct threat to Pierce’s plans.

“This isn’t about the Avengers.”  Fury argued back.

“You’re running the world’s largest, most covert security network and you’re going to leave saving the worlds in the hands of a bunch of _freaks_.”  Pierce tsked.

A vein started to bulge at Nick’s temple as he shot back:  “I’m not leaving _anything to anyone_.  We need a response team.”  He took a breath.  “These people may be isolated, unbalanced even.  But I believe with the right _push_ they can be exactly what we need.”

“You believe.”  The woman pointed out.

“War.”  Pierce drawled.  “Isn’t won by uncertainties, Director.”

“No.”  Nick made his final point.  “It’s won by soldiers.”

…

Tony pouted over the information Coulson had left to bring him up to speed…even if he was a _little_ psyched both by the challenge it presented and the opportunity to work with Dr. Bruce Banner.

Pepper had rolled her eyes, being in the penthouse at the time of Agent’s arrival to scold Tony over giving her and Happy ten percent of the Tower ownership as an engagement present and had helped Agent No-Fun cockblock him into a night of studying instead of trolling the plentiful New York bars for a tall drink of water to take his mind off of permanently relocating to the _oh-so-wonderful_ city of his less-than-stellar childhood.  It was a needed move, even being in Malibu anymore was enough to have him reaching for a bottle, if he didn’t want to die of liver failure before fifty.  PTSD wasn’t pretty, even in someone as pretty as Tony Stark.

And too much shit had gone down in L.A. for him to stay.

Better a move than living on the bottom of a bottle forever or going back to some of his even-more-destructive habits from his late teens and early twenties.

Jarvis popped up in his favorite render, an experiment the A.I. had begun when Tony started creating Ironman suits that were less suit and more robotic extensions of his best most brightest boy to pilot, of a tall drink of water himself in a tidy suit, neat blonde hair, and electric blue eyes the same color as Tony’s holo-screens.

Tony’s better half had gone through more than one evolution to finding his preferred render, but the lanky male figure had been popping up more and more often since they relocated to New York, even before Tony officially flipped the switch that evening on the reactor.

“Sir, I hesitate to ask,” Jarvis said.  “But are you more excited about meeting Dr. Banner, or meeting an intelligent alien lifeform?”

The disapproving _even a murderous criminal_ went unsaid but was felt all the same, Tony grinning incorrigibly over at his AI.

“Why Jarvis?!”  Tony gasped, slapping one hand over the blue glow of his Arc Reactor.  “Be still my wires, it’s like you don’t know me at all!  Both of course!”

“Of course, sir.”  Jarvis smiled benignly at his creator, feeling almost _fatherly_ towards what was in actuality _his_ father.  “Foolish of me to even ask.  I shall prep the Mark VI for you, sir, and hack further into the SHIELD system to determine when they locate our off-world visitor.”

“Thank you, Jarv.”  Tony beamed.  “Picking up naughty habits I see, I’ve taught you well.”

“Only everything not on the internet and connected systems sir…”

…

_Elsewhere, the next night:_

“…How’d they find me?”  Bruce Banner asked.

“We never lost you, doctor…”

…

 


	3. Hide and Seek

** Truth Will Rise **

_“It will be found that some things which seem virtuous, if followed, lead to one’s ruin, and some others which appear vices result in one’s greater security and well-being.”_

_Niccoló Machiavelli_

**Two: Hide and Seek**

Phil glanced over at the figure of Steve Rogers, _the_ Captain America, the day after Loki mind-whammied his husband, and couldn’t even drum up the excitement or mere interest to engage him in conversation let alone “fanboy” as Clint used to tease him that he would do when he finally met the legend face-to-face instead of watching over the icon’s de-thawing.

Honestly, the only thing that was keeping him together and going was the knowledge that this… _team_ Nick was cobbling together out of an island of misfit toys plus Phil’s addition of Frey Black was the best chance he had of getting Clint back.

“Is he there yet?”  Phil asked over the jet’s comm.

Maria answered: “Not yet.  Are you sure about him?”

“As I can be.”

“We’re approaching, sir.”  One of the pilots said, taking control back of the comms.

“Good.”  Phil nodded, sitting at last instead of pacing and making Captain Rogers nervous.  “That’s good.”

“Don’t like to fly?”  Steve offered in sympathy.  The agent who had picked him up seemed decent at least.  Just too quiet and nervous for Steve’s taste.  Nothing like Bucky.

“No,” Phil unwound enough to reassure the Captain, knowing how his companion’s _last_ plane ride went.  “Just waiting on an addition to the team you’re to lead, Captain?”

“A bit of a loose cannon?”

Phil snorted.  _Loose cannon_ described everyone on the roster for the revamped Avengers Initiative…including his missing husband… _except_ for the Captain, but even he had had his moment of disobeying his commanding officers back during World War II.

And many, many lives were saved because of them, the same as Frey’s jumping in to help Thor against Skurge in New Mexico or even Tony Stark’s grandstanding.

Loose cannons…but heroes all.

It was going to be getting them to work together that was the problem.

“Something like that.”  Phil finally allowed after the jet touched down and the egress hatch opened, the agent striding out onto the deck with Steven following at a much slower clip.  Phil had helped Steve understand the briefing materials Nick had left him, but other than that, their two minutes of conversation was the only words the two had spoken between them the whole trip.  The agent slowed down long enough to pass the good Captain off to Natasha, and then he was making for the bridge as fast as possible.

“He doesn’t talk much, does he?”  Steve commented to Ms. Romanoff.

Natasha gave him a quirk of her lips in response.

“He has a lot of things on his mind.”  She said.  “Before all this, he was one of the most excited agents over finding you in the ice.  Now…”  She shook her head.  “Well, Loki did more damage than he thought taking Agent Barton as one of his mind-controlled thugs.”

“They’re close?”

She hedged, not sure just how up-to-date the Captain was about modern society.

“Agent Coulson was supposed to…neutralize Agent Barton, instead he brought him in.  That kind of thing just doesn’t go away.”  And Natasha would know more than most, though she didn’t fall in love with Clint when he gave her her second chance…or was it her third?  When you lived through as much blood and pain as the Black Widow, sometimes things like that all started to blend together.

“Huh.”  Steve frowned looking over his shoulder at where Coulson had disappeared into the ship.  “Imagine that.  I didn’t take him for a rule-breaker.”

“Thinking outside the box should be in the SHIELD agent job description, the good ones at least.”  Natasha allowed with a soft smile.  “And they don’t get much better than Coulson and Barton.”

Thankfully for Natasha, Steve spotted a brown-haired man in an old suit coat who looked more than a little lost.

“Dr. Banner.”  Steve called out.

Bruce turned around and eyed Natasha and her companion, quickly putting name to face.

“Ah, yeah, hi.”  He said, squinting a bit in the bright light as he shook hands with the original super-soldier.  “They told me you’d be coming.”

“Word is you can find the cube.”  Steve commented.

Bruce looked around, already unsettled and he’d only been there less than an hour.

“Is that the only word on me?”

“Only one that matters to me.”  Steve said with his honest good-nature.

Bruce thought on that a moment, searching that all-American-handsome face for any sign of deception then allowed: “Must be strange for you, all of this.”

“This?”  Steve looked around the flight deck with a laugh.  “Actually, _this_ has been the most familiar thing I’ve seen since I woke up.”

“Gentlemen.”  Natasha spoke up as orders came in through her ear piece.  “You’re going to want to move inside…it’s about to get a little hard to breathe.”

As the sound of engines engaging sounded and alert bells rang, Steve asked: “Is this a submarine.”

Bruce laughed incredulous.

“Really?  They want _me_ in a submerged pressurized tin can?”

Natasha just smiled and watched the two men walk over to the edge of the helicarrier, laughing – if only silently to herself – as they lifted off and Banner exclaimed:

“No…this is _so_ much worse…”  As he realized it wasn’t a submarine after all…but a flying aircraft carrier.

…

Walking into the bridge behind Natasha, Bruce faded over to one side of the bridge, over towards where Agent Coulson and another man, a man who made the _Other Guy_ both perk up and back down – which was probably the strangest reaction his inner self had ever had to _anyone_ hands-down – rather than gawk at the sight of the helicarrier technology.

Standing against the wall – doing his best to be invisible – Bruce cocked his head, catching some of the conversation between the two.

“…what, Coulson.”  The stranger teased.  “Afraid I wasn’t going to show after all?”

“Well, Black.”  Coulson snarked back.  “You _do_ have a habit of disappearing, like say, when _I need to debrief you_ , which we still haven’t done from our last meet-up, you know.”

“I don’t work for SHIELD, agent.”  The stranger shrugged, with a dark smirk.  “Didn’t you read the files I left you before passing them over to your fearless – if stupid – commander?”

“Nick’s not stupid.”  Coulson said, with a tone that sounded like this was a common line of conversation between them.  “But you have to admit…you didn’t leave us much to go on.”

“I left you with _enough_ , had you cared to _listen_.”  The stranger hissed, almost too low for even Bruce’s enhanced hearing to catch.  “And now where are we, hmm?”

“God.”  Coulson rubbed his eyes.  “You’re almost worse than Stark.”

“Please.”  The stranger rolled eyes in a curious green that couldn’t be natural to Bruce’s educated eyes, following up the eye roll with a snort of derision.  “ _No one_ is worse for giving you and SHIELD headaches than Tony Stark, Mr. Ironman himself.”

“Point.”  Coulson sighed, then turned towards Fury who had finished the _vanish_ routine, ushering Frey – and Bruce by extension – over towards the large sit-rep table that Rogers was already hovering near.

“Gentlemen.”  Nick said, nearly welcoming even despite the gimlet glare at Frey Black.  It irritated the shit out of him when Coulson went off the reservation.  Though given the circumstances, he felt he should be grateful that Phil had restrained himself from calling in a wild card instead of going rogue himself.  Taking the ten bucks Rogers had bet him if Fury surprised him with a half-smile, he stood before the trio of super-soldier, wild-card, and genius-Hulk.  “Doctor Banner, thank you for coming.”

“Thanks for asking nicely.”  Bruce leaned forward against the table, watching as Fury didn’t take his eye off of the stranger flanking Coulson for a second, Rogers likewise staying in place rather than moving to roam the bridge.  “So…how long am I staying?”

“Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you’re in the wind.”  Fury promised him, only to be interrupted by a snort from his unwelcome “expert” consultant.  “Yes, _Dr._ Black?”

Frey smirked at him, his inner cat rolling at causing one of the more irritating people he’d met recently irritation in turn.

“If you _really_ think that Asgard is going to just let you keep the Tesseract now that you’ve proven you can’t be trusted with it…”  He whistled through his teeth.  “You’re dreaming, mate.”

“And what does Asgard have to do with it, Dr. Black was it?”  Steve asked crossing his arms over his chest as Bruce took a step back to metaphorically distance himself from the coming confrontation.

“Did _no one_ read the information I gave you?”  Frey asked Coulson with a deadpan look.

“It was heavily redacted before being uploaded into the common-use database.”  Phil shrugged.  “Sorry.”

Frey rubbed one hand over the front of his face, muttering under his breath as Fury took that moment to introduce his current pain-in-the-ass.

“Captain Rogers, Dr. Banner, Agent Romanoff.”  Fury pointed each out to Frey.  “Meet our consulting expert on all things Asgardian, Dr. Frey Black, presently of Harvard but of unknown origin.”

“How can someone be of unknown origin?”  Steve added a frown to the crossed arms, hating when he was behind everyone else.  He _should_ have been informed of this Dr. Black if the man was going to be on  the team or helping them.

Barely taken off and already they were having snafu’s.

Fantastic.

“Because whilst I, in my awesomeness,” Frey simply batted at Phil’s arm when the agent snorted.  “Shared a file with SHIELD that listed a score or so of the major players of the Yggdrasil Universe, I have never confirmed nor denied their assumptions that I am – at least part – Asgardian…by which they actually mean Aesir.”  He corrected Fury.  “Which is the species in question, Asgard being the realm and capitol city of said realm, though they are often used interchangeably by the masses.”

“That’s how.”  Natasha muttered in an aside to Steve.

“As I was saying,” Frey waved off the discussion and came back around to the point.  “Odin is notorious for his mag-pie like tendencies.  His father lost the Tesseract here during the war with Jotunheim, and was content to _leave_ it lost for the very reason you have recently discovered according to the briefing I’ve been given.”

Well, _given_ was a bit of a stretch.

Gleefully raided from SHIELD servers would be a better summation but…semantics.

“Doors can open from both sides.”  Fury repeated Barton’s last words before becoming Loki’s new favorite sock-puppet.

“Exactly.”  Frey nodded.  “And with the other pretties that Odin Kin-Slayer has collected over the years, he never made any moves to reclaim a relic that is – as you have learned the hard way – _difficult_ to control to say the least.  It was ruled an unacceptable level of risk to the safety of all the Yggdrasil to bring it back to Asgard, so…”

“On Earth it stayed.”  Steve cursed.  “And now that Hydra and SHIELD have both played with the rotten thing, something finally came knocking.”

Frey gave a devilish grin.

“Precisely.”

“Fascinating.”  Bruce said, eyes flicking between Rogers and Black.  “But if someone could show me my lab, I’ll get on _finding_ our uncontrollable relic and leave debates about ownership up to someone above my pay grade.”

“Fair enough.”  Fury waved Hill over and had her escort Dr. Banner to his lab, even as what Black had told them about the Tesseract – and it’s origins – played over in his mind.

He’d read the dossier, and noted the anti-Odin slant it had, even if only in minute ways like listing some of the more… _interesting_ the All-Father had been given over the years.

But the shear level of distaste Black had for his maybe-supposed King…well.

It but a whole new light on things, that was certain, and made Nick doubt all of the assumptions he’d ever made about the non-human? Super-soldier?  Frey Black.

“Anything else you feel like sharing, Dr. Black?”  Fury asked.

“No.”  Frey smirked, knowing that the mystery was driving the spy crazy.  “And give Banner, Romanoff, and Rogers complete versions of the file I gave you.  They need to know who they’re dealing with.”

“Your entry on Loki was a bit shorter than some of the others.”  Fury shot back.  “How helpful could it be?”

“Just the same.”  Frey countered.  “They need to broaden their scope – and so do you – if you want to stand a chance at getting your men back, let alone the Tesseract.”

“And Loki?”

Frey smiled and moved to leaned against one of the computer work-stations, staring out at the clouds as Phil handed Steve a new file, and everyone else to finding his father.

“Loki’s a shadow, he’s mist.”  Frey told him.  “The only way you’re going to catch him is if he _wants_ to be caught, even as run-down as he looked in that footage from the bunker.”

“What do you mean?”  Natasha frowned.  The footage Black spoke of was shaky, but she hadn’t noticed anything off about Loki, if anything he moved better than most of the operatives she’s ever seen.

“That you even need to _ask_ is proof of just how unprepared you are, Agent Romanoff.”  He jerked his head towards Fury.  “Ask him.  I’m sure Fury’s seen survivors of… _aggressive_ interrogation tactics before, maybe a prisoner of war or two.  Loki was favoring one if his sides, he was moving slow, and his reaction time was off, even if he disregard that he looked like shit and was wounded before the first shot went off.”  Frey shook his head.  “You better hope he pops his head up soon…because if he heals, gets back up to spec…”  He laughed.  “Nothing on this Earth is going to be enough to stop him.”

“And what about you?”  Steve asked perceptively, leaning towards them intently even as the file sat closed and untouched before him.

“Me?”  Frey cocked his head.  “I’m just a Professor of Ancient Norse Mythology mate.  Didn’t you read my file?”

“No Professor moves like you did in New Mexico.”  Steve refuted.

It was one of the film he’d seen when SHIELD was trying to get him up-to-date.  It had just taken him a minute to place the supposed professor in jeans, a t-shirt, and motorcycle boots and jacket in what looked like leather with the sword-and-spear fighting warrior from the videos who matched Thor and a massive Asgardi…er… _Aesir_ swing for swing.

In the end, it was the eyes that gave it away.

Frey barked a laugh, thinking of a certain school for gifted youngsters in upstate New York.

“Clearly you need to get out more, mate.”

…

A few hours later, Phil had been busy enough – and forced to take a catnap courtesy of Frey’s magic – to be pestering Steve over signing his vintage trading cards when the computers lit up.

“We’ve got a match.”  A tech announced, Frey’s head snapping around even as he gave a light ping to the spell he’d hit his father with.

His words to the others had been true after all – Loki, or whoever was driving him, wasn’t up to his normal self.  There was no _way_ the Avatar of Magic who had taught Frey most of the craft wouldn’t have noticed the tracker.  Something was up.  Frey simply hoped that whatever it was…it was something his father could come back from.

“Sixty-seven percent.”  The tech continued.  “No – cross-match, seventy-nine percent.  It’s him.”

“Where is he?”  Coulson asked.

“Stuttgart.”

Frey smiled, as his magic confirmed the tech’s words.

“Seems like I was right.”  Frey lifted his booted feet from the table and dropped them to the ground.  “Loki wants to be found.  Let’s oblige him, shall we?”

Fury nodded at his words.

“Suit up.”  He ordered.  “Move out in fifteen.”

“You will.”  Frey corrected, stepping towards the shadows, settling the ear piece Coulson tossed him into place.  “I’ve tagged the good Captain and I’ll meet you there…I’ve my own means of transportation.”

And with that, he sank into the shadows and disappeared.

Fury whipped around on a smug Coulson, glaring.

“Told you.”  Phil held out one hand, Nick slapping the ten dollar bill he’d collected earlier from Steve into the waiting palm.

“What was that?”  Steve breathed, eyes wide.

“Dr. Frey Black.”  Coulson told him.  “Genius, warrior, and apparently magical non-human being of undetermined origin or species.”

“Oh,” was all Steve could say.  “Okay then…but what did he mean by “tagging” me?”

Coulson just shrugged and led Captain America down to the armory to suit up, Natasha already in her all-black SHIELD operative’s uniform sprinting for one of the quinjets to get it warmed up and flight-ready while Rogers changed and Coulson took up his mobile command center in the back.

Fury – and Hill – watched it all with mirroring expressions, both clearly eyeing Coulson with more than a little concern.

After all…he _was_ heading out to confront the man-alien-demigod-thing that had corrupted his husband.

But as both valued their lives, neither of them said a word to stop him.

…

Frey listened with half an ear as Coulson kept him appraised of the trio’s ETA, all the while taking in the opera house in Germany and watching his father work the room like the handsome, charming prince he was under the mind-control.

Most demigods – or hells, gods for that matter – would rush in, snatch his father up and lock him away to “cure” him.

Loki wasn’t most gods, and neither was Frey for that matter.

So once again, he waited as the opera finished, he watched as his father put on another show – his one with far less blood but much more in keeping with his father’s style than the loud bangs and crashes of the bunker – and he processed it all down to the last flicker of those unnatural blue eyes.

“Loki’s on the move.”  Coulson appraised him, the agent like the rest of SHIELD assuming that Frey was elsewhere waiting to track the good Captain instead of roosting in the rafters like the lost and lamented Hawkeye, watching it all take place first-hand.  “He’s attacked the guards at the gala and done something to one of the guests.”

“Can you get an ID on the guest?”  Frey whispered into the comm, keeping it off the grid – and SHIELD from realizing just where he was and what he was allowing to happen.  While more often than not Frey behaved like the warrior and hero and truly “noble” prince he’d been raised, he also recognized that there were times for nobility…and others for sacrifice.

Chaos knew…he’d done the sacrificing often enough.

His virtues had cost him much over the years – his compassion towards Calypso one of the greatest, by not taking preemptive action before she could strike out at him in turn – but it was his vices that he trusted to keep his father alive and in one piece in the woven fate the Norns had made for them, even if those who would call themselves his allies disdained him for staying his hand and allowing his quest for the truth of things to play out.

Knowledge was a drug to someone to lived as long as an Avatar, and learning their favorite vice.

It was what kept them truly _alive_ and not just existing, prevented them from falling into a rut of routine.

And Frey _knew_ Loki.

His father was no choir boy, and had hands dripping in so much red that it would make even the Black Widow pause…not that Thor or any other Aesir warrior could claim differently.

Odin so did love using them to gain his treasures.

But he didn’t know this stranger that wore his face.

Even if the tactics were so similar they nearly made him _ache_ …provided that Loki _was_ making such a show of himself on purpose and it wasn’t his controller.

As the crowd screamed and panicked and rushed outside into the Stuttgart night, Frey followed no more than another shadow, easily crouching in the darkness in a ledge alcove above the show.

Prime seats, as it turned out, to what amounted to more theatrics than he’d seen in years outside of a professional stage.

He winced, sending a cushioning spell at the cop car as Loki blasted it with the scepter, but found himself glad – even just a little – as his father used one of his favorite spells to melt away the dapper suit into light armor, and his illusion magic into summoning clones.

Loki was coming back to himself after trauma he’d likely come fresh from through the portal.

It was enough of the real Loki under the mask to give him hope that there was a chance yet to spin the Wheel another way…if not break it entirely.

“We’re two minutes out.”  Coulson said in his ear, even as his father corralled the opera-goers and started his performance…and it was exactly that.  “The guest was a scientist, and a disturbance has been reported at the facility.”

“We can’t take the chance on Loki going to ground again.”  Rogers spoke up through his own comm.  “We’ll take Loki into custody and _then_ investigate the facility.  One minute out.”

“Roger that.”  Frey replied, sinking into the shadows of the roof and rising back up on the edge of the crowd.

“KNEEL!”  Loki finally tired of their stunned-deer gazes, and the sheep knelt before him.

But as they did so…he felt… _something_.  A fragment of familiarity or a whisper of a dream, just on the edge of his mind.  And then the scepter flared and he thought no more of it as the sheep parted before him – a great wolf, like his cast-down-by-Odin grandson Fenrir.

Frey arched a brow as he felt his father’s power reach out to him for a split-second before being subsumed once more by the scepter.

He still wasn’t _certain_ of which stone it was, but given how the agents and Dr. Selvig had reacted to it, not to mention Loki himself, he was betting on either the Mind or Soul stone, though for his father’s sake he hoped it was the former than the latter…a mind is much easier to change than a soul after all.

“Is not this, simpler?”  Loki asked, arms spread as if to embrace them as a curly smile crossed his face.  “Is this not your natural state?  It is the unspoken _truth_ of humanity, that you crave subjugation.  The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life’s joy in a mad scramble for _power_.  For identity.  You were _made_ to be ruled.  In the end…you will always kneel.”

Rogers gave a whistle over the comm, the trio in the quinjet picking up Loki’s speech easily thanks to the cell phones and cameras that SHIELD had tapped into to keep an eye on Loki.

“And I thought Adolf had a complex.”  He muttered.

“Adolf wasn’t literally _raised_ to see anything not-Aesir as insignificant.”  Frey told him drily, watching the crowd react to his father’s words…and seeing the trouble before it even started as conviction firmed an elderly face.  “Loki was, and from what I can tell he’s channeling all of that right now.  Like someone hollowed him out and left only the worst parts of himself behind.”

In fact, Frey would be willing to bet that’s what someone _had_ tried to do.

The only question was _who_ , and how fast Frey can make them regret that decision with their last breath.

“Thor didn’t seem that bad.”  Coulson pointed out.

“Thor always took his place in the multiverse for granted…Loki never did.”  Frey answered, then the comms crackled as Captain Rogers prepared to make his own grand entrance.

“I’m jumping in five, four, three…”  Steve counted off.

“See you on the ground, Captain.”  Frey murmured, cracking his neck and preparing for a fight that he – for the first time in a long time – wasn’t _certain_ he could win.

His father had always been a formidable opponent, and had never taken it easy on him.

But there still was a vast difference between a training spar and a death-match.

The old German man stood, facing the would-be dictator in his plain coat and humble resolve.

“Not to men like you.”  He said, shoulders straight.

“There _are_ no men like me.”  Loki laughed it off.

“There are _always_ men like you.”  The elder shot back with a jut of his chin.

Loki sneered.  “Look to your elder, people…”  A dark look flashed across his handsome face.  “Let him be an example…”

The scepter glowed and fired a bolt at the shocked form of the old man, only to have Loki crashing to the ground as he was caught in the back-fire of the blast ricocheting off of Captain America’s famous shield.

“Nice timing.”  Frey murmured, Steve smirking as the strange magical…person melted out of the shadows at his back and moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the tall form in the stars-and-bars…and to Steve’s shock topped him by several inches.

Granted, he hadn’t gotten _too_ close to the enigma, and Frey had sat for most of the time on the helicarrier…but he had to be at least six-five or six-six.

“Not bad yourself.”  Steve shot back with a smile.  “Would you like…”

“Oh no.”  Frey waved him forward.  “He’s all yours – for now.”

Loki stared, confused shock and longing flickering over his face for long moments, green eyes locking with their twins, and then the blue came over him once more and all that was left was anger – and a certain thread of dark satisfied glee as he focused on the man-out-of-time.

“You know.”  Steve said, hopping down to the pavement.  “The last time I was in Germany, and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing.”

The kneeling crowd moved to stand and strafe away from the sure-to-come fight now that Captain America had arrived as that icon of justice strode easily, as if without a care, towards the rising form of Loki, whose formerly smooth and placid face other than a few flinches of disdain or glee had formed into a near-feral snarl to match his no-longer smug tone.

“Ah yes,” he sneered.  “The _soldier._   The man out of Time.”

“I’m not the one who’s out of time.”  Steve told him as Natasha brought the quinjet around the nearby building and leveled the guns on Loki, Frey taking out his sword Magefire – the gift from Loki himself to celebrate his immortality – and spinning it idly in his loose grip.

“Loki, drop the weapon and stand down.”  Coulson announced over the quinjet’s exterior speaker as Natasha zeroed in her targeting on the very visible villain.

Loki just smiled, and shot off a bolt of energy from the spear at the quinjet, forcing Natasha to evade and spurring Steve to attack, Frey standing back a moment and just… _watching_ once more.

His father could have brought the jet down…why didn’t he?

And he certainly didn’t need the spear to do it, or to torture the scientist from the gala to get an eye-scan to use for whatever purpose.

Nothing was adding up…and it was driving Frey batshit crazy.

“Shouldn’t you help him?”  Natasha snapped at Frey as Loki and Steve traded blow after blow, Loki finishing the first clash by sending Steven crashing into a stone retaining wall.

“Not yet.”  Frey said, utterly calm.  “Look, he’s pissed.  I can’t step in and take his chance to even the score away, that’s just not Quidditch.”

And Steve _was_ pissed, that was for sure, even as Natasha and Coulson mouthed Quidditch at one another in confusion while Captain America took the metaphorical gloves off.

He practiced constantly – both in the past and since waking – making sure that he didn’t overuse his strength on _normal_ people.

But if Loki could toss him like that…then _normal_ had just gotten tossed out the window and Steve could really let loose.

Though up until Loki jabbed his spear into Steve shoulder after knocking him around – again – and demanded he kneel, the Aesir did a damn good job of continuing to toss him around even _with_ Steve’s super-strength.

Just who the _hell_ are these guys?  He wondered.  Aliens might explain the strength, but it didn’t cover the technique or footwork, though it might also explain the speed.

Steve had seen footage of Thor while they were waiting for a ping on Loki, and Loki’s from the bunker.

And the Loki he was facing _now_ made Thor look like a snail – albeit a massively strong one – and even himself in a contained area glacial in comparison.

“Jesus.”  Coulson breathed, eyes wide.  “He might be even faster than you, Tasha.”

“Let’s hope not.”  The Black Widow responded grimly, staring down at the scene of Steve giving Loki a roundhouse kick to the end only to quickly lose the upper-hand within seconds.  “Since strength doesn’t seem to be doing the trick.  Want to step in, _now_ Dr. Black?”  She asked icily as Loki tossed Steve onto his back.

Only before he could reply, _Shoot to Thrill_ took over the quinjet’s PA system and the sultry baritone of Tony Stark filled all their headsets.

“Agent Romanoff…did you miss me?”

Tony came in hot, blasting Loki with a double shot from his repulsers before landing in “classic” super-hero chic on the cement, Frey chuckling at the display.

They _actually_ thought that was enough to take Loki down.  It was… _cute_.  And truly reiterated that they had no _fucking_ clue just who they were dealing with.

Though Loki himself seemed reluctant to enlighten them, holding up his hands and letting his armor fade back to Loki’s normal “casual Prince” clothes of green and black tunic and pants at Ironman’s daring him to make a move.

“Good move.”  Stark said, and let his helmet retract as Natasha brought the quinjet in to land, Captain America cuffing Loki and escorting him over to the plane as Frey stepped forward and crouched next to the scepter, eyeing it warily before taking out a large sheet of pure, undyed silk to wrap it in, taking great care not to touch it.  Tony watched all this with his clever brown eyes, taking in the sword-and-spear strapped to the body that belonged to one Dr. Frey Black – an enigma and possible hostile according to the SHIELD files Coulson had dropped off, but Agent seemed to trust him…at least to an extent necessary to help him get his husband back.  For the moment that was good enough for Tony as Dr. Black took exaggerated – to Tony – care isolating the strange alien weapon.

But then, scuttlebutt from SHIELD’s _other_ files that Jarvis had found on Dr. Black speculated that he might be an alien lifeform himself.

Which had Tony nearly _dying_ to pick his brain or trap him in his lab for weeks on end while he figured out what made Frey Black _tick_.

The film from New Mexico said read like magic – but that explanation did nothing but make Tony’s head want to explode.

It _had_ to be advanced tech – Tony’s worldview didn’t allow for anything _else_ like magic and his atheist heart quailed at the idea of _actual_ divine beings.

…

“He say anything…either of them?”  Fury asked as the quinjet got underwing back to the helicarrier.

“Not yet.”  Natasha answered, glancing back towards the… _interesting_ tableau playing out in the back of the quinjet between Stark, Rogers, Black, Coulson, and Loki.

“Just get him here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Stark and Rogers were having a _tense_ conversation – likely about the only thing they had in common, Howard Stark, which was a less-than-great idea for Rogers to bring up given their very disparate views on the late genius.

Coulson was staring holes through Loki from his seat at the mobile command station, his glare only increasing as their response team sent to investigate the German lab reported that Barton had led Loki’s team in breaking in and making off with a substance called _iridium_.

Loki’s “performance” and subsequent capture being no more than a highly choreographed distraction.

Which made Natasha wonder: what did Loki _gain_ by allowing them to take him into custody…and what was up with the _looks_ he kept casting at Black?

For his part, Frey Black was the _least_ combative person in the jet, with his relaxed slouch on the bench across from Loki, keeping the restrained Prince of Asgard in his sights at all times but not glaring like Coulson or watching him like a charged explosive the way Rogers did.

Stark was simply too busy seething over Rogers’ “good man” praise of his dearly departed alcoholic father-of-no-year to give much of a damn…not that he generally gave much of one _anyway_ beyond a tact Natasha could appreciate: trying to wipe some of the red out of his own ledger.

The tense, half-roiling and half-frozen air was broken by Loki – much to Natasha’s surprise.

“Do I know you?”  Loki had to ask.

Though he would have thought he would remember a god with talents as… _unique_ as shadow-walking in the Yggdrasil, let alone the Universe Cosmic.

But after he’d been scruffed like a cat and settled firmly – restraints and all – into the seat harness on the would-be-heroes’ flying contraption, he’d realized that the sense of _familiar_ he’d had earlier but had brushed off.

“I don’t know.”  Frey answered, smirking.  “Do you?”

Tony watched the byplay, eyes wide and completely distracted from what Pepper – his best-friend and right-hand-COO – would have termed a “snit.”

“Jarvis.”  He whispered quietly.  “Am I the only one seeing this?”

“Seeing what sir?”

Well…that answered that.

He didn’t know if it was the weird alien mojo Loki had – though Senor-Crazy-Pants was apparently just as confused as Tony over the situation – but it was like staring at Asgardian Assholes versions 1.0 and 2.0…and Tony had no _idea_ how no one else was noticing, let alone the facial-recognition software of either SHIELD _or_ Jarvis.

Still, the mere fact that _no one else was noticing_ , kept Tony’s mouth shut until he could gather more data.

Before Loki could respond to such impertinence, thunder cracked all around him, and lightning flashed through the quinjet cockpit.

“What’s the matter, Reindeer Games?”  Tony snarked.  “Afraid of a little lightning.”

Tony kept one eye on Batshit-Crazy, while his seemingly-helpful clone – or maybe a Life Model Decoy? – climbed to his feet and prowled towards the back of the quinjet, standing on the very edge of the hatch.

Whoever – or _whatever_ – Frey Black was, he moved like a big cat: all smooth muscle and predatory eyes.

“I’m not _overly fond_ of what comes after.”  Loki said eyes flicking up to the roof of the quinjet as another stream of lightning cracked and the quinjet rocked, Stark and Rogers losing their footing and stumbling for a handhold while the curious creature whose power Loki somehow _knew_ even as his face was a stranger remained surefooted and strong before the hatch.

An appropriate feeling as it turned out, as a massive _thud_ hit the roof of the quinjet, the heroes frowning as they stared up at the sound of heavy footsteps – far too heavy to be a mere human – sounded across the length of the plane before the hatch flew open to a massive strike of lightening, the crouching form of Thor flying into the interior, blue eyes lit with radiating sparks of light that mirrored the wild storm outside.

Thor didn’t say a word, springing for the bound form of Loki, only to be brought up short by a hand grabbing him by the neck and slamming his massive form to the floor, a feat of strength unheard-of by a mortal man and causing genuine shock to shoot across more than one face – most notably Loki’s.

Looking up, Thor met acid-green eyes, a silent message passing between the two as the god of Storms and War dipped his chin in an invisible gesture to Loki’s son while the Crown Prince of Asgard was blocked from the view of any others by the large form of Frey kneeling over him, the newest god of the Yggdrasil only a bit shorter and less broad than Thor making an excellent barrier.

No matter the farce each must play for the ever-watchful Asgard or the humans, they were united in regaining Loki – _their_ Loki, not this _off_ facsimile of him who had spurned their mother Frigga and spouted words from a resentful, envious heart that Thor hadn’t seen in his brother since they were striplings.

“No, Thor.”  Frey said after a long moment, Captain America and Ironman rushing to flank him as he knelt over the form of the recently-choke-slammed Thor, one hand still resting lightly on that strong golden neck.  “You won’t take him.”

“The All-Father has _commanded_ that Loki be returned to Asgard – _with_ the Tesseract.”  Thor told him in the guise of a loud protest.

“Well, that’s going to be a problem then isn’t it?”  Tony arched an unimpressed brow – refusing to be intimidated by a guy almost seven-feet tall…whose cape was more than a _little_ over the top…even if he dug the color scheme.

 _No capes!_   Tony grinned as Edna Mole’s infamous line ran through his head.

“Do you know who I am?”  Thor growled, stepping around Frey who lifted one hand to cover his lower face, trying to keep from bursting into laughter at Tony’s response.

“Uh, I dunno, Shakespeare in the Park?”  Tony shot back.  “Doth your mother knowest you wearth her drapes?”  Tony held out one hand dramatically, his voice taking on a pompous tone.

“That’s enough – both of you.”  Steve stepped between them, seeing the flashes of light starting to spark once more in Thor’s eyes and the “dare-me” look in Stark’s.

Frey pouted a bit in disappointment – spotting a similar look on his father’s face before it was buried behind the placid mask – then blanked his features and came back around the bulk of Thor to see the entire cabin area of the quinjet.

“Loki doesn’t _have_ the Tesseract, at least not right now.”  Frey told the blond half-Aesir Crown Prince.  “So I suppose you’re stuck with us until we locate it…if Odin Kin-Slayer is to have a chance at reclaiming _either_ of his now-lost stolen treasures.”

“Ah, point of order, the Tesseract is technically property of Stark Industries ever since my dad fished it out of the Atlantic.”  Tony interjected, one metal-glove clad finger raised.  “I don’t _quite_ understand how the one-eyed guy in the sky thinks it’s his, let alone – if I’m understanding Tall-Dark-and-Scary – how Loki counts as either _lost_ or stolen.”

“You’ve missed a lot.”  Coulson told him unhelpfully, Loki breaking down into a manic high-pitched giggle at the understatement.

 


	4. Fox and Lion

**  
Truth Will Rise **

_“A prince must imitate the fox and the lion, for the lion cannot protect himself from traps, and the fox cannot defend himself from wolves. One must therefore be a fox to recognize traps, and a lion to frighten wolves. Those that wish to be only lions do not understand this.“_

_Niccolo Machiavelli_

**Chapter Three: A Fox and a Lion**

 

“Anybody know where Tall-Dark-and-Scary is?”  Tony asked idly as the group of misfit toys assembled around the conference table on the bridge, minus a pair of alien lifeforms.  “One would _think_ the avowed-expert on all things alien would want to be here for this.”  He walked up to the command center where Fury normally stood, covering one eye with his hand.  “How does Fury see all this?”

“He turns.”  Maria Hill answered blandly, arms crossed over her chest, unimpressed with the billionaire’s grandstanding.

Bruce fidgeted as he came onto the bridge from the elevator, also interested in the coming confrontation – though not the one Fury had fought for…only to lose in the face of Thor’s determination…and biceps.

“This” being the awaited _discussion_ between the pair of adopted brothers that had been held in abeyance until Loki was secured in a clear glass cell in the helicarrier…one reputedly designed to contain the Hulk.

“Doctor Banner.”  Tony darted over to the mild-mannered scientist like a heat-seeking missile after a tracer round.  “It’s an honor to meet you – truly.  Your work on antielectron collisions is unparalleled.  And I’m a huge fan of how you transform into a massive green rage-monster.”

“Thanks.”  Bruce answered slowly, disengaging from the firebrand’s grasp in time for the screens to flicker to life and take his seat.

“Still no, Dr. Black, hmm…”  Tony noted humming under his breath as pieces of the puzzle started to form some sort of picture in his mind.  “ _Interesting_.”

Fury finally joined them at the table, flanked by Coulson and the good Captain, with Natasha downstairs keeping an eye on the Asgardian Wonder Twins.

Only once the Wonder Twins began speaking, it became very apparent that they had miscalculated when Fury gave in, giving up on keeping Thor away from his brother until the Tesseract was located – the disputed ownership of which they’d yet to get into, shelving that debate until it was found.

The brothers _weren’t_ speaking English – or the All-Speak as Frey had told them it really was and why they had British-y accents.

Instead, it was no language any of them had ever heard before, though to Natasha’s well-trained ear it was similar to Norwegian, which she reported over her comm to the bridge.

“Sir,” Jarvis’s cool tones came over the external speaker on Tony’s custom Starkphone.  “I am afraid to report that this language is unknown in all of my databases, including all external sources, though Agent Romanoff is correct in there being small similarities to Norwegian, it appears to be closer to Ancient Norse, which has no current speakers for me to access for translation.”

“Forget about me already, Jarvis?”  Frey asked as he melted out of the shadows, grinning wickedly as everyone but the eternally-cool Nick Fury jumped – if just a little – in their seats.

“Of course not, sir.”  Jarvis responded as his creator cursed under his breath over “magical-fucking-aliens.”  “However, as you were neither present nor accounted for I did not wish to include you in my summary.  Apologies.”

“You can translate _that_.”  Tony jerked his head towards where the brothers were having what looked more and more like a _spat_.

“Could.”  Frey corrected, eyes cool as he listened.  “ _Should_ , is another case entirely.  That language is the old language of Asgard and the Realm Eternal, dating from before the All-Speak.  Translating it for an outsider to understand – or worse _learn_ as your Jarvis is certainly capable of – could be seen as treasonous as worst and merely blasphemous at best.”

“That’s not a no.”  Bruce noted with a small smile and a cat-like cock of his head.  The Other Guy was still confused over how to react to Frey Black, and had notably had a benign reaction to Thor.

The scepter of Loki’s had gotten another reaction _entirely_ , the Hulk wanting nothing more than to _smash_ it into powder.

Frey gave the doctor an enigmatic smile then said: “Much of what they speak of is irrelevant to your aims.  I will listen, and if aught that needs be brought to your attention is said I will translate it…just not word for word or immediately.”

Fury gave a harrumph but let it rest at that.

“Hmm.”  Tony gave Black a narrow-eyed smirk.  “Bigger than most humans, able to choke-slam Thor, and speaks a language strictly from Asgard…why might _that_ be I wonder…not to mention the very _in_ human green cat eyes.”

“You interest me, Mr. Stark.”  Frey said, cocking his head as a slow grin stretched across his face, slowly becoming a grin identical to the one on Loki’s as seen through the security cameras – a very intentional _slip_.  “It seems you can see _clearly_.  Fascinating.”

“Hmm.”  Tony simply hummed under his breath, a warm glow of knowing something – a something with the potential to be _very_ dangerous if the warning in those inhuman eyes was any clue – that others _don’t_ filling him.  He saw it now, the last puzzle piece slipping into place.

Two questions remained however: first, if they _were_ related, and all the facts pointed to that, _why_ doesn’t Loki recognize him anymore than anyone _else_ does…except maybe Thor based on how easily Cat-Eyes had calmed him down.  And second…why wasn’t Tony _saying anything_?!

As if reading his mind, Frey held up one long callused finger to his lips in a universal shushing motion, then winked.

Ah.

That would be why.

 _Magic_ , right.

Tony was _convinced_ this was just a new higher – much higher – form of science and he was _going_ to figure it out sooner or later.

 _Magic_ just made him break out in hives.

But any scientific route of investigation would take time they didn’t have right now, so observation it was.

Turning back to the screen from the most fascinating man he’d met in a long while – and the first Clear-Sighted one he’d met in this universe _at all_ , which had Frey’s mind spinning to figure it out even as he was sure Stark was doing the same over him and his powers – Frey grimaced as the conversation took a turn for the worse.

Granted, much of what his father was saying _was_ gibberish that had no grounding in fact, but even at that he knew how to hit Thor’s weak spots.

“What is it?”  Fury barked.

“Family drama.”  Frey told him with a shrug.  “Thor’s asked about the Tesseract already, Loki reportedly sent it away – probably with Agent Barton and/or Doctor Selvig – without knowing exactly where they would head, a standard Aesir tactic to protect information from extraction by an enemy.”

“I thought Loki was the second-son?”  Natasha frowned.  “Isn’t Thor a general?”

“Yes to both… _ish_.”  Frey shrugged again.  “The Aesir are a warrior society, even a prince that didn’t stand a chance of inheriting the throne would have been trained in warfare.  If anything…”  Frey hesitated then completed the thought, feeling it might help avoid some needless deaths if they were at least _warned_.  “Loki is the more dangerous general of the two.”

“Tricksy, right?”  Tony asked.  “God of Mischief and Lies or something like that.”

“Been doing your homework?”  Coulson asked with mild shock.

“Wanted to bang a liberal arts major in college.”  Tony snarked back.  “She was way into mythology…and I distinctly remember something about a horse.”

Frey snorted a laugh.  “The legend of Sleipnir.”  He said after his laughter wound down.  “One of the early cases of a drinking tall-tale growing larger than life – and entirely false.  If I remember right it was one of Thor’s _friends_ ,” Frey sneered.  “Who spun the yarn to impress some nubile serving wench when the Aesir used to visit this planet on a semi-regular basis.”

…

While Frey was distracting the others, Thor took on Loki.

“Where is the Tesseract?”  He demanded without fanfare.

“I missed you too.”  Loki scoffed as he prowled the edges of the clear box they’d imprisoned him in…for now.

“Do I look to be in a gaming mood?”  Thor snarled.

“You should be _thanking_ me.”  Loki shot back, whirling to face him.  “With the Bi-Frost destroyed, how much dark energy did the All-Father have to use to conjure you _here_ , your precious _Earth_?”

“I thought you dead.”  Thor slammed one hand up against the box, shaking it in its moorings to an arch look from the watching Natasha.  “We all did, save a few.”

“Did you mourn?”  Loki asked with real curiosity, as if he couldn’t imagine being missed by Asgard.

“We all did….Mother more than any.”

“ _Your_ mother.”  Loki shot back, a frown briefly beetling on Thor’s face and then gone as he tried to reach his brother beneath the madness, the blue eyes deeply unsettling in that familiar face.  “My true parentage has been revealed, has it not?”

“We were _raised_ together.”  Thor protested, trying a new tactic.  “We _played_ together, we _fought_ together.  Do you remember none of that beneath this new madness?  Do you remember your _son_ not at all?”

“My son…?”  Loki’s eyes flickered green for a moment, a name forming on his lips, and then gone again in the wash of blue.

…

“Okay…”  Tony blinked, sitting back in his chair and rubbing his eyes.  “I _can’t_ have been the only one to see _that_.”

“You weren’t.”  Bruce confirmed, frowning.  “How sure _are_ we that Loki is acting of his own accord?”

“Given what we just saw.”  Coulson’s jaw clenched.  “I’d say we’re wavering on that front.”

Frey smiled his wicked, cat-like little smile, and watched the pieces of a plan start to fall into place, even as his heart _ached_ at the confirmation that his father didn’t remember him in any way.

Though, at least that was a _hint_ for how to reverse it.

He doubted it was the scepter, it controlled, it didn’t wipe everything away, and not _just_ a period of time or a single person from what he could tell either.

More and more, he was starting to think that his father had done this to _himself_ , which left Frey wondering _why_ and not liking the reasons he was finding as he followed in his father’s bootsteps.

“What were they talking about, specifically?”  Fury asked.

“Loki isn’t just a name on a file or a target.”  Frey explained.  “Before all of this, before he was… _missing_ , he was a son, and a brother, and a father.  Thor is trying to remind him off all that, shake the control and find the Jotun underneath it.”

“Jotun?”  Bruce asked, side-tracked a moment from his churning mind.

“Loki’s species.”  Frey provided.  “He’s not Aesir.  He’s Jotun.”

“What does that mean?”  Bruce continued.

“A whole lot of drama we don’t have time to get into right now.”  Frey told him drily.  “Suffice it to say…when I said we could discuss Odin’s lost, stolen treasures, I meant stolen by _Odin_ and now outside his immediate grasp and/or control.  Loki being one of those stolen things.”

…

“I remember a shadow.”  Loki spat.  “Dwelling in the shade of your greatness.  I remember being tossed into an _abyss_ , I who was and _should be_ King.”

“So you would take the world I love as recompense for your ill-remembered slights?”  Thor asked, incredulous.

Before they could continue in that strain, Fury buzzed down to Natasha, calling Thor back up.

“We will continue this later, brother.”  Thor told him.

“I can hardly wait.”

…

“Why am I here and he there?”  Thor muttered peevishly to Frey in an aside as the others watched Nick Fury take his shot at cracking Loki.

“Because you were getting nowhere.”  Frey told him.  “And were stepping dangerously close to revealing things to Loki that are best left alone if he isn’t already aware of them.”

“You mean things his _controller_ isn’t aware of.”  Thor hummed under his breath.  “What ails Loki’s mind, Frey?  What has done this to him?  Or who?”

“I’m still not certain.”  Frey answered with a sigh, straightening up as Fury closed the hatch beneath Loki’s prison cell.  “But I need time to figure it out – time we may not have.  Far came along far too easily.”

“I agree.”  Thor nodded.  “All of you were in too fine of condition for Loki to have put up much of a fight.  Made a show of it did he?”

Frey hummed, nodding.  “And they were swallowing it hook, line, and sinker until you managed to break the spell for a moment and his eyes flashed.  Now _they_ are uncertain where before they were filled with conviction.  I may get the time I need yet to chart a way out of this mess…for _all_ of us.”

“I will have your back, Frey.”  Thor promised, the two of them touching forearms in a warrior’s salute as Frey nodded in response.

“I know.”

…

“Ant.”  Fury gestured to Loki in his cage, then to the control panel.  “Boot.”

Loki chuckled, pleased with his new visitor’s wit in a way that was usually lacking in his lummox brother.

Leaving his illusion of nonchalance up, Loki winced as a burst of pain spiked through his head, the pains coming more and more often ever since the scepter was taken away by the one they call “Frey” or “Black”, the being whose power had spurred the first headache and whose face continued to send them spiking through his mind, much as his brother’s words had.

It was an odd sensation – pain coupled with a calm that nearly overtook his rage time and time again.

But then it was time for him to continue with his part, banishing the illusion to spar with the one-eyed man.

“It’s an impressive cage.”  Loki held up his hands with a laugh.  “Not built, I think, for me.”

…

“Smart bastard, isn’t he?”  Tony murmured, more thinking out loud than to one of the others.

“He’s the best diplomat Asgard has - _had_.”  Thor admitted, shining a bit at the praise towards his brother, even as it shamed him that he hadn’t done enough of such things himself.  Perhaps if he had, Loki would have _trusted_ him, told him of his parentage or of Frey.  But that was all spilled mead.  Now it was time to make up for all the centuries of neglect – benign or otherwise.  “ _Smart_ doesn’t even begin to describe my brother.”

 _That_ got him a few sideways looks, even as Frey gave a quirk of his lips at his side.

It seemed the time on Earth, both alone and under Frey’s tutelage, as well as the time looking for Loki or having to fulfill what were traditionally his brother’s duties had made their mark on Thor after all.

There might be hope for training the big lummox of a general into a king worthy of Asgard’s golden throne yet.

…

“Built for something a lot stronger than you.”  Fury rubbed the point in.

“Oh I’ve _heard_.”  Loki grinned that cat-like grin – one of many traits he shared with another…though he couldn’t quite grasp _who_ – turning to stare into the camera where he knew the would-be heroes of Earth watched…as well as his blasted brother.  “A mindless beast, that makes to play as if he’s still a man.”

…

Bruce shifted, in turns rattled and restless at the summary from someone – or was it something – like Loki, Natasha watching him – but then she almost always was when they were in the same room.

It took a lot to scare the legendary Black Widow from what he’d heard over the years.

Part of him was chuffed that he’d managed it so easily in Calcutta, while the rest of him was just… _sad._

…

“How desperate are you?”  Loki asked, subtle grin turning into one of his wide manic smiles as he twisted the knife.  “That you call upon such lost, broken creatures to defend you?”

…

“Ouch.”  Tony snarked.  “I resemble that remark.”

Frey snickered, nudging a stiff Thor with his shoulder in a universal signal to loosen up, as Stark’s self-effacing jibe had intended, the massive blond unwinding enough to roll his eyes and sigh at both Stark’s buffoonery and Loki’s sharp-edged silver-tongue.

…

“How desperate am I?”  Fury asked, an edge entering his voice as he paced towards the steel-and-glass cage.  “You threatened my world with war.  You steal a force you can’t hope to control.  You talk about peace and you kill ‘cause it’s _fun_.”

Loki smirked at that.

“You have made me _very_ desperate.”  Fury finished his mini-speech.  “You might not be glad that you did.”

…

“Truer words.”  Coulson murmured, gaining himself a sharp-edged glance from Frey, who then exchanged _looks_ with Thor that went unnoticed by all – the rest focusing entirely on the screens – except Tony, who never focused entirely on _anything_ …except flying and sex anyway.

Especially when there was a long-legged beauty of a mystery like Frey whatever-his-real-name-is Black sitting across from him having _undercurrents_ with Shakespeare-in-the-Park.

Tony kinda wondered if that was the whole point – oh, maybe not the undercurrents with Frey, Loki’s honest (as far as Tony could tell) confusion about him was real – but the situation as a whole.

Keep them focused on _Loki_ and blind to anything else.

Worst of all if it was…it was doing a damn good job of working on most of them.

Which meant the others would just have to pick up the slack on making sure that their captive magician didn’t slip a wildcard into the deck.

…

“Ooh.”  Loki breathed out, as if impressed – solely with himself of course – smiling all the while.  “It burns you to have come so close.  To have the Tesseract?  To have _power_?  Unlimited power at that.”  Loki cocked his head.  “And for _what_?  A warm light for all mankind to _share_?”  He grinned back into the camera.  “And then to be reminded what _real_ power is?”  His tone turned dark as he faced back off with Fury.

Fury’s face twitched.

“Well…”  He drawled, spinning away and descending the stairs.  “Let me know if _Real Power_ wants a magazine or something.”

Loki just turned back to the cameras, facing them full-on, and smiled once more.

…

“He really _grows_ on you doesn’t he?”  Bruce joked.

“Well, I vote we keep him around just for the pure entertainment factor of watching Nick almost implode in rage.”  Tony snarked, moving to stand and pace, hands moving with his words.  “I mean, usually I like to think I’m the best at that, but _wow_ , he really knew just where to twist the knife didn’t he?”

Fury just rolled his eye as he strode into the room on the heels of Tony’s words.

“That is one of Loki’s gifts, yes.”  Thor confirmed.  “He is at his most dangerous when he speaks, more than his _seidr_ , his weapons skills, or anything else – he was the foremost diplomat and envoy for Asgard for the last five hundred years for a _reason_.”

“He’s going to drag this out.”  Steve sighed, then looked over at the Asgardian and…whatever Dr. Black was.  “So, Thor, Dr. Black, what’s his play?”

They exchanged a glance, Frey nodding before padding over to lean on one of the computer towers, one hand resting nonchalantly over an interface – as if merely needing to readjust and take in the room.

“He has an army called the Chitauri.”  Thor crossed his arms in front of him, leaning back in the chair.  “They’re not of Asgard nor any world known to us.  He means to lead them against your people, they will win them the Earth.  In return I suspect for the Tesseract.”

“An army.”  Steve repeated.  “From outerspace?”

“So he’s building another portal.”  Bruce’s eye lit up.  “That’s what he needs Erik Selvig for.”

“Selvig?”

“He’s an astrophysicist.”

“We know.”  Frey spoke for the first time in a while, splitting his attention between using his magic to hack SHEILD and the running conversation – and starting to plant seeds to direct things as he wanted them.  “We met in New Mexico.  He wasn’t a big fan of either of us from what I can remember.”

Thor just grunted in agreement, the indignity of his short while in human hands a bit fresh.

“Loki has him under some kind of spell.”  Natasha supplied, leaning forward.  “Along with one of ours.”

Coulson and Natasha shared a charged look.

“I want to know why Loki let us take him.”  Steve said, showing his strategic mind for the first time to the others.  “He’s not leading an army from here.”

“I don’t think we should be focusing on Loki.”  Bruce interrupted.  “That guy’s brain is a bag full of cats, you can _smell_ crazy on him.”

That got him a full-on glare from Thor and a round of snickers from Tony, who was dictating instructions to Jarvis, following the conversation, running some algorithms in his head, and watching the byplay between Frey and Thor – especially as Frey gave Thor a barely-there dip of his chin before the big blond took verbal umbrage to Bruce’s less-than-kind analysis of his baby-bro.

“Have care how you speak.”  Thor slowly rose to his feet, hands braced on the table before him as he glowered at the others.  “Loki is beyond reason but he _is_ of Asgard.  And he’s my brother.”

“More than that, I would bet.”  Tony muttered, heard only by Thor, Bruce, and Frey – all having advanced senses even over the pair of enhanced super-humans at the table Natasha and Steve.

“He killed eighty people in two days.”  Natasha enlightened him in a deadpan.

Frey used that as his cue, scoffing complete with lavishly rolling eyes and upthrown hands as he moved back further into the circle of the small-form war council.

“Please.”  He sneered.  “That you act like that is some great feat shows just how little you know about the rest of the Yggdrasil – and the royal families in particular.  Did you never _wonder_ what crime Thor committed to be banished here powerless?”  Frey arched an expectant brow, relishing the uncomfortable looks that passed between the agents and director of SHIELD and the combo of Bruce and Steve.  “No?”  He smirked.  “Allow me to enlighten you…”

“Frey…”  Thor broke in, moving to his side and clasping one hand on his shoulder, good-cop to Frey’s bad-cop.  “Asgard made amends to Jotunheim for my offenses there – at great price – and I completed my sentence…”

“More than double Loki’s body count from the last two days in less than an hour.”  Frey continued, shrugging off Thor’s touch, flicking a miniscule but charged glance at the Asgardian Prince, just checking, before continuing.  “Over having his coronation ceremony interrupted by someone who turned out not to even _be_ Jotnar in the end.  You think we should be impressed that Loki killed a mere eighty in two days?”  Frey gave a mirthless chuckle.  “Rather, I’m impressed with his control.  A god of Loki’s power could kill a thousand times that on a planet so overfilled in a flicker of an eye.”

Tony gave a whistle into the charged silence that followed Frey’s announcement.

“Okay then, ah…”  Tony scruffed at his jaw-stubble.  “When you say god…”

“I mean something that I don’t have the time or energy to debate with you whilst Loki is held – not very effectively – in a steel box that could fall 30,000 feet with the push of a button.”  Frey said, voice once more even and calm.  “Especially in light of what I believe you all have come – at least in part – to realize for yourselves.”

“Loki’s not the commander.”  Thor said with a nod.  “I have discovered as much in my short talk with him, it was alluded to but not said, I would imagine that anyone with the power to damage my brother so and bind them to their will would also at least attempt to keep him from gaining aid…it is what the All-Father would do.”

Frey gave Thor a slow, thoughtful nod.

Perhaps the blond had changed more than he’d thought.

“How damaged is he, really?”  Bruce arched a brow.  “He seems pretty whole and healthy in my cell.”

“Quite a bit.”  Frey told them, rubbing one hand over his braided hair in an old – and hard to train out of him – soothing/thinking habit.  “From what I saw in Stuttgart, he was sandbagging to an extreme, or is still just partially recovered from wherever he was after he what thrown from the Bi-Frost during the explosion.”

“But _is_ he compromised.”  Coulson pointed out, Fury nodding along, the Director watching and waiting to see what his rag-tag team of loose cannons would come up with.  “That’s what we’re thinking.”

“Loki has green eyes in his preferred Aesir form.”  Thor told them heavily.  “Indeed, in _every_ form I’ve seen my brother take in our thousand years, never _once_ has he chosen blue eyes.”  Too much change to be scoffed at for trying to be more like Thor if he had to guess, or perhaps even the All-Father.

“Wait, he can _shapeshift_?”  Tony’s jaw-dropped as his mind boggled trying to fit that into his understanding of physics…or any of the hard-sciences.  “For real?  Not a myth?”

“Yes.”  Thor said, frowning a bit.  “I know that was a tale often bandied about when we used to visit here, did it not survive?”

“No, it did…”  Tony frowned, pouting a bit.  “Just thought it was bullshit, like the horse-thing.”

Thor snickered, even as Frey shoved him again – this time a lot less friendly about it too.

“If I may?”  Frey moved over and laid his hands flat on the table at Fury’s nod.  Above the center, illusions appeared – Loki as an Aesir – then one of Lady Loki joined them, and then last one of Loki in his Jotnar form.  “ _These_ are his preferred forms.”  Three of them separated out, running, sparring invisible opponents, walking or standing, growing tall enough for easy inspection before shrinking back down.  And in all but the Jotnar form, Loki’s bright green eyes were front and center.  “And _this_ , is how he looks now.”

The fourth image grew until it was about three-feet high, each of the others save himself and Thor crowding close to inspect it.

When he regrew the Aesir-Loki in full health and his King’s armor instead of the old Prince’s armor that Loki had been wearing when he arrived in the Tesseract chamber, the damage and difference became readily apparent.

Hair untamed and ill-kept rather than smooth and sleek.

Eyes flickering between bright blue and a dulled green.

Bruised and hollowed cheeks, neck, and even his hands.

The movement was another big difference, the smooth dancer’s/prince’s stride replaced with something a much rougher glide, though still smoother than most humans managed.

“So he _is_ compromised.”  Coulson murmured, then looked up and locked eyes with Frey.  “How?  The spear?”

Frey was already shaking his head.

“If I had to lay odds, I would say that the spell or curse was placed on him after they broke him and the spear – more specifically the stone – is just an anchor.  A pre-purposed tool such as that would work for an average mind – perhaps even an impressive mind – but not on that of a trained sorcerer.”  Frey told them, one thumb resting on his lower lip after crossing his arms when the show was done.  “Which makes our situation that much more of a challenge – Asgard may lay claim to Loki all it likes, but he is the son of the King of Jotunheim…and Laufey is going to want his Crown Prince back and unharmed or Earth might find itself in much greater trouble than it already is.”

“Thor.”  Fury prompted after a long moment passed with only the sounds of the bridge crew to break the silence.  “Where is Asgard in all this?”

“We claim Loki as the adopted son of Odin All-Father and Frigga All-Mother, brother to myself and Baldur.”  Thor said formally then grimaced.  “However…friend Frey is correct when he states that Jotunheim has the greater claim under the law.”

“How seriously should we treat Jotunheim as a potential threat if Loki is _not_ returned to them?”  Fury continued, ignoring the heated glare that threatened to burn him to cinders where he sat coming from Frey.

Oh, he knew something was going on there.

He just didn’t know what…not yet at least.

Frey gave a slow, lethal smile, answering the question without even a word as Thor scruffed at the back of his head in sudden bashfulness.

“Gee, great.”  Tony summed up.  “Just when we were getting used to Asgard, it’s bigger, badder brother shows up.  That is the dynamic I’m sensing here right?”

“It was only the capture of the Casket of Ancient Winters – and Loki though that was only recently discovered – that ended the last war between Asgard and Jotunheim.”  Frey explained, eyes flaring with anger.  “Earth stands even _less_ of a chance against them than they do against most of the Yggdrasil, let alone the Universe Cosmic.”

Tony was definitely getting an anti-Asgard vibe from the yummy Dr. Black…while also being strangely turned on by the amount of passion a body had to have to give off such visible but controlled expressions of rage.

“Back to the point – since we can’t take care of Loki,” Coulson brought them back around.  “What can we do about his handler, or handlers, and this army?”

“I think it’s about the mechanics.”  Bruce took up the earlier discussion thread, as the Other Guy hid in the back of his mind.  _Whatever_ Frey was, he was packing some serious power – and rage – to keep the Other Guy that docile.  It was kinda nice, actually.  Let him think for once.  “Iridium, what do they need iridium for?”

“It’s a stabilizing agent.”  Tony perked back up, distracted from his wandering mind – and libido.  “Means the portal won’t collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD.  Also means that the portal can open as wide and stay open as long as Loki – or whoever – wants.”  He pointed at a random crewmember.  “That man is playing Galaga, thought we wouldn’t notice…but we did.”

A crewmember hunched down and quickly popped open a new screen to hide the vintage video game as Steve and several others turned to look.

“The rest of the raw materials Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily.”  Tony continued.  “Only major component he still needs is a power source.  High energy density.  Something to kick start the cube.”

Agent Hill, standing nearby Fury as always when the two were in the same room, looked up to the sky as if for patience and asked: “Since when did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?”

“Last night.”  Tony told her deadpan.

Hill shook her head and turned away, and Tony elaborated.

“The packet Agent gave me – Selvig’s notes.”  He frowned, glancing around the table.  “Extraction theory papers?”  He held out his hands, tone a near-pout.  “Am I the _only_ one who did the reading?”

“I did as well.”  Frey nodded to the genius before he could rant – growing up around his Far, and himself for that matter, Frey was well-versed in the signs of a building genius-level rant.  “But adapting my education,” all of it, including what studying he’d done on other Earths to give himself the time to roll around like a cat in all the knowledge.  “Doesn’t always adapt well to this Earth’s…a bit of a language barrier at times.”

Tony and Bruce both blinked, almost in sync and taken aback.

Neither of them had taken Frey for a brain…other than for his wealth of non-Earth information anyway.  More along the lines of Coulson or Natasha actually from the information SHIELD had on him and how Thor acted around him.  Like a spy...or an operative.

Though Tony at least had appreciated the cover as a Professor in Ancient Norse mythology and civilization.

“Would it need to be any particular _kind_ of power source?”  Steve asked, before Tony could pounce on the newly-revealed egghead like the big kid the genius often was.

“He’d have to heat the cube to one hundred and twenty million Kelvin,” Bruce said, looking up from playing with his glasses.  “Just to break through the Coulomb barrier.”

Tony held his hands out wide once more.

Frey gave a half-hearted shake of his head.  Tony Stark couldn’t be a bigger diva if he _tried_.  Everything about him shouted “look at me!  Look at me!”

Rather, Frey thought, on purpose.

He at least hadn’t missed Tony planting a bug of some sort earlier on one of Fury’s computer arrays.

“ _Unless_ ,” Tony drawled, moving closer towards Bruce.  “Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect.”

“Well, if he could do that he could achieve heavy-ion fusion at any reactor on the planet.”  Bruce stated matter-of-factly, as if it was something anyone should or would know.

“Finally,” Tony smiled, almost burrowing into Bruce Banner’s personal space.  “Someone who speaks English.”

“Is _that_ what just happened?”  Steve asked, exasperated, netting an understanding look from all of the non-scientists in the room…save Frey who had actually followed it and had been breaking it down into similar Aesir terms for Thor to understand as well.

“Doctor Banner is only here to track the cube.”  Fury made a point of saying.  “No, you cannot kidnap him to live in your labs, Mr. Stark.”

“Aw, but _dad!”_   Tony whined, pouting, the rest of the would-be team not even bothering to hide their laughs.

“I was hoping you might join him.”  Fury ignored Tony – as per usual.

“What about that stick of his?”  Steve asked.  “It might be magical but it worked a lot like a Hydra weapon.”

“I don’t know about that…”  Fury started to say, saved by Frey – on accident since they both knew Frey loved to needle the man.

“They’re not connected, or they are,” Frey corrected himself mid-stream.  “But only in the loosest sense.  That’s a dead-end for finding the cube.  If it wasn’t, _that’s_ where I’d already be.”

“Frey…”  Thor growled warningly, getting a shrug and an unrepentant “what?” in return.

“Regardless.”  Fury said.  “It _did_ appear powered by the cube, _and_ I’d like to know how it turned two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”

“Monkeys?”  Thor frowned.

“I understood that reference.”  Steve lit up.

“I’ll explain later.”  Frey sighed.  “We seriously need to work on your human pop-culture education.”

“That makes two of them…”  Tony smirked at the still-happy Steve, rolling his eyes.

“Shall we play, Doctor?”  Tony asked Bruce, then tilted his head towards Frey.  “And Doctor?”

“It’s legitimate, I assure you Mr. Stark.”  Frey told him as he rose and fell into step with the pair of geniuses.  “A wise being never stops learning after all…”

“This way…”  Bruce waved towards the hall, Frey casting one final glance towards Thor, who only allowed his eyes to flicker in a silent signal.

Thor would keep the others from doing anything _overly_ stupid while Frey worked on the brains of the operation.

…

Stripped down to shirt-sleeves, including Frey who had ducked into a locker room to “change”, sending off his armor and most of his weapons into his pocket space, switching them out for his armored pants and a soft cotton t-shirt…which had had Tony’s eyes glued to his ass and thighs for several minutes before the hedonist shook himself out of his overloaded daze, they set to work.

Little did they know, their work on the scepter was moot.

It was a fake.

Granted, a fake made to appear as the real thing, down to reading that thanks to Fury’s disregarding of his words he’d tweaked to make the signature of the Tesseract.

He wouldn’t want his father – or anyone else for that matter – to realize something was wrong.

Or worse, that Loki’s “handler” as Coulson had put it would notice a missing Infinity Stone…if they even comprehended what they had.

It was the answer of where he’d been when the others had assembled as Thor was escorted to Loki’s cell – making damn _certain_ that that fucking scepter with its Stone didn’t end up in some SHIELD bunker somewhere.

Frey didn’t trust SHIELD as far as he could toss Mjolnir.

Let them have unrestricted access to an Infinity Stone – _any_ Infinity Stone – and it led to nothing but trouble as the current debacle with the Tesseract, the caged and pre-purposed Space Stone, gave credence to.

The moment he had wrapped it in silk, the scepter had been sent off into a secondary pocket space that he kept empty in case of coming across volatile magical – or otherwise – objects, and took rigorous care to cleanse after each use lest something… _malignant_ spawn from the residue of built-up magical – or otherwise – energies.  Crafting a false-scepter had taken no more than a moment for someone with his training and powers, and a hit of Chaos energy purposed to match the signature and spellwork his father had woven into the real scepter to cause mayhem on the crew of the helicarrier, and Frey’s decoy was finished.  Not even Loki would – or could being so damaged – tell the difference between the two.

But Frey had needed _time_ to dive into examining the damned thing, time that he’d stolen while the others milled about and assembled for Thor’s confrontation with Loki.

Being able to shadow-walk had its advantages after all, and Frey already knew how to get to the bridge.

What he had found had been…horrifying to say the least, and the top of the proverbial iceberg.

There was a power signature wound into the scepter still, anchoring Loki’s active and ongoing mind-rape to the thing, and giving him nominal control over it to “recruit” suitable minions.

 _Un_ winding it would take more time than the score of minutes he’d had before needing to join the others, and something that he sensed _needed_ doing as soon as possible, preferably without alerting the true owner of the scepter to his actions…for now at least.

Frey let the chatter of Tony and Bruce drift around him, the others not bothering with him where he was hunched over one of the provided computer screens.

The scepter would have to wait – for the moment at least – until he could have some _real_ time to fashion his net around it.

For now…there were _other_ plans as yet to set into place, along with arranging his turn in the ring with his father.

Though of everything that had gone on, two things above all had stood out to him:

Thor’s immediate allying with him, despite the front he showed of kowtowing to the All-Father and the humans; and Tony Stark’s silence on what the genius inventor had _seen_ when he looked at Frey and Loki.

Frey’s spells – and Loki’s for that matter – woven years upon years ago weren’t _working_ on the man…when they worked on everything and everyone else they’d ever come into contact with before lifting it either on a single basis or over a group, as Frey had done in his rage on Asgard when Loki had been… _lost_.

A fact which did nothing but tingle at Frey’s own cat-like curiosity.

It would be an interesting race – seeing which of them, Tony or Frey, would find the answers to the questions about the other _first_.

One that Frey would relish…were the surrounding stakes not so high.

 


	5. Levels of Deception

** Truth Will Rise **

_“It is double pleasure to deceive the deceiver.”_

_Niccolo Machiavelli_

**Chapter Four: Levels of Deception**

Tony kept one eye on Frey – who was being _way_ too quiet for Tony’s comfort given the hypotheses around the other… _being_ that kept floating through his head – as he chattered at/with his long-lost brain-twin Dr. Bruce Banner.

“You know,” he offered, playing with a metal tool in his hand.  “You really should come to New York after this is all over.  Stark Tower – top ten levels are all R & D, it’s Candy Land you’d love it.”

Bruce laughed a little, still uncomfortable with how… _at ease_ Tony Stark was with him, always getting into his space.

Though from what Bruce could tell “personal space” was one of those things Tony recognized and then studiously ignored when it suited him.

Another thing he’d noted – and thus kept half an eye on the inventor – was Tony’s unrelenting need to stir the pot, as the Fury-baiting had shown in full technicolor and surround sound earlier.

Not, however, as much as Frey Black apparently wanted to bring the pain to the aforementioned leader of SHIELD if Bruce was any study of human – or alien, maybe, in this case – behavior.

In fact, Bruce would be willing to bet – a bet Tony would probably gleefully make – that the only thing keeping Frey on any kind of leash was shockingly Thor…who wasn’t a beacon of control as the tempestuous meeting between the group on the quinjet had shown, Bruce getting the play-by-play both from a snickering Tony and from the video footage Coulson showed him.

“Thanks,” Bruce made to decline the offer.  “But the last time I was in New York I kinda…broke… _Harlem_.”

Proving that he was at least paying _some_ attention to them and not totally buried in his own…whatever he was doing in the corner with a computer…Frey snickered at that.

“Well,” Tony said airily.  “I promise a stress-free environment.”

Alerted by the _tone_ , familiar with it to an intimate degree from Luke and the other Hermes campers, not to mention his own father, Frey looked up and watched, not wanting to miss whatever stunt Tony was about to pull…and probably get chewed out over.

Besides which, he’d already made his arrangements and was entertaining himself trading hacking attacks between what he was almost certain was Tony’s rumored AI and the SHIELD cybersecurity team.

Needless to say, the cybersecurity team was _way_ outgunned with Frey’s ability to manipulate tech with his magic, not to mention the AI.

“No tension, no surprises.”  Tony continued, winking at the avid-watching Frey, and jabbed the slim mini-shock tool for testing small circuitry for completion before installation into a large piece into Bruce’s side.

“Ow.”  Bruce raised his voice just a tad as he flinched away in reflex.

“Wow.”  Tony arched a brow as Frey silently died laughing in the corner, burying his head in his arms on just in front of the keyboard he’d been typing away on for the last hour or so.  “You really do have a lid on it don’t you?”

“Hey!”  Steve shouted from the doorway and strode into the room with – to Tony’s mind – the Brows of Disapproval furrowed.

“Really?  Nothin?”  Tony cocked his head, watching from the corner of his eye as the good Captain Boy Scout came over like a giant buzzkill in the stars-and-bars and the other as Frey almost fell of his stool as he tried – and failed – to get ahold of himself.  “What’s your secret?  Mellow jazz, bongo drums, yoga, big bag of weed?”

“Hey!”  Steve repeated.  “What do you think you’re _doing?_ Is everything a joke to you?”  He scowled.

Tony smirked a little, pointing the mini-shock tool at the Boy Scout.  “Funny things are.”

“Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn’t _funny._ ”  Steve retorted.

“Correction.”  Frey regained his composure and stood, walking over to the group.  “It was freaking _hilarious_.  And not really a worry, unless I miss my guess, am I right Dr. Banner?”

“He’s right.”  Bruce sighed, pinching his nose.  “I _do_ have a lid on it, but the Other Guy isn’t excited to go around with…whatever species our Dr. Black is.  Which _isn’t_ Aesir, since Thor just makes me want to toss him around a little and establish dominance.”

“Quarter-Aesir.”  Frey corrected.  “Odin’s only half, and Queen Frigga is Vanir...which is moot since Loki wasn’t the only cuckoo in that nest.”

“What does that even _mean_?”  Tony asked – half rhetorically and half-really wanting to know.

“Cuckoos,” Steve actually knew this one too, which mellowed him – a little – along with Frey’s assurance about the Other Guy, even if he didn’t entirely trust Black – yet.  “They lay their eggs in other bird’s nest, and the impostors supplant the real hatchlings after birth…you’re saying both Loki and Thor are adopted?”

“How does that work with the whole Prince thing?”  Tony cocked his head, still waiting for a more cogent explanation…since the Capsicle hadn’t told them anything he didn’t already know.

“Loki was stolen and adopted, and by law is the second-prince of Asgard and by birth and tradition the Crown Prince of Jotunheim.”  Frey sketched out the basics for them, even knowing that they would go straight to Fury’s ears…if he wasn’t spying on them via camera already.  “Thor on the other hand was born a couple years before during the height of the conflict – when it was being fought here, on Earth, to Odin and an echo of a bint that I’m glad doesn’t actually exist in this universe.”

“Thor’s what, half-human?”  Bruce asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Nng.”  Frey made a disagreeing sound.  “Half-Earth Titan actually.  Son of Odin and one of Gaea’s bleed-throughs from another universe.”

“And how does _that_ work?”  Tony demanded, hands on his hips.

“If you’re powerful enough, important enough, some of what you are can bleed through or echo in other universes than that of your main existence.”  Frey explained the short of it.  The long of it just gave him a headache.  Besides which, from the wide-eyed and half-panicked stare Steve was giving him, they were close to dancing on his religious beliefs, which was never a good idea for dealing with someone as devout as Captain America was reported to be.

“Still, the danger…”  Steve quickly pounced, diverting the conversation far _away_ from things that stank of high-powers.  “No offense Doctor.”

“None taken.”  Bruce gave a half-smile, waving it off.  “I wouldn’t have come aboard if I could handle…pointy things.”

“You’re tip-toeing big man.”  Tony told him, wandering away and orbiting closer to Frey.  “You need to strut.”

Before Tony to jab Frey with the mini-shock, Frey snapped up his wrist and held it away with an arch of his brow, tsking lightly.

“And _I_ wouldn’t have survived to my tenth birthday if I couldn’t see through as obvious ploy as that one, Mr. Stark.”

“Please, call me Tony.”  He was told, Tony _leaning_ into his space, a flirtatious smile dancing onto his face as Frey squeezed his wrist with a gentle touch for such rough hands, the pad of one thumb caressing his inner wrist lightly just before the release.  “Frey, if I can call you Frey.”

“Please do.”  Frey cocked a grin, eyes dancing, then glanced at the others.  “That goes for all the rest as well.”

“You should be focusing on the _problem_ , Mr. Stark.”  Steve told him, just _done_ with trying to keep the pair from being… _themselves_.

“You think I’m _not_?”  Tony asked, arching a brow as he delved back into the project.  “Why did Fury call us in, why now?”

“Fury didn’t – call me in that is.”  Frey answered, shrugging at the _looks_ this got him.  “Coulson did.”

“See, see!”  Tony jabbed the part in his hand at the other-male-person-thing.  “A known and acknowledged source of info on Loki, and Fury wanted to ignore him.  This isn’t _about_ Loki at all.  It’s about something _else_.  Why not bring us in before?  What isn’t he telling us?  I can’t do the equation if I don’t have all the variables.”

“You think Fury’s hiding something?”  Steve asked, less than thrilled.

“He’s a spy.”  Tony told him.  “Captain, he’s _the_ spy.  His secrets have secrets.  It’s bugging them too, isn’t it?”  He gestured towards Bruce and Frey with his blueberries.

“This is true.”  Frey added.  “Him not calling me in to help with an admitted Asgardian – even if Loki is also something else entirely – doesn’t endear me to the man anymore than him blatantly disregarding some other advice I’d given him in the past.”

“Dr. Banner?”  Steve asked, turning his eye from the now spinning-idly-on-a-stool Frey to the suddenly-fidgety doctor.

“I, ah,” Bruce stuttered.  “I just want to finish my work and…”

“Doctor.”  This time the tone was firmer.

Bruce stood straight and sighed, taking off his glasses and folding them, holding them in his hands like a talisman.

“A warm light for all mankind.”  Bruce repeated Loki’s words from earlier.  “Loki’s jab at Fury about the cube.”

“I heard.”  Steve nodded.  “And?”

“Well, I think that was meant for Tony.”  Bruce said, taking a blueberry from Tony when the bag was offered.  “Even if Barton _didn’t_ tell Loki about the Tower it was still all over the news.”

“The Stark Tower?”  Steve asked, brows moving from bland to confused, making him look rather like a giant Labrador.  “That big, ug – uh _building_ in New York?”

“Are you compensating for something, Tony?”  Frey shot the inventor a teasing grin, getting an: “Anytime you’d like me to prove otherwise, sweetheart…”  From the playboy.

Steve and Bruce carried on, ignoring the pair for the moment.

“It’s powered by an Arc Reactor, self-sustaining energy source.”  Bruce explained his thought process further.  “That building will run itself for what, a year?”

“It’s just a prototype.”  Tony agreed, then said to Steve.  “I’m kinda the… _only_ name in sustainable green energy right now, that’s what he’s getting at.”

“So, why didn’t SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project if it was about renewable energy?”

“Because it’s not.”  Frey told them point-blank.  “Yes, it’s an energy source, but that’s not it’s primary function – folding space _is._   That’s how Loki created the portal using it – it was programmed for portal-travel before humans had _fire_.”

“And _that_.”  Bruce pointed towards Frey.  “Him.  Fury wanted Thor here, that’s why we got briefings on him.  But Frey?”  Bruce shook his head.  “They didn’t tell us anything until he showed up at _Coulson’s_ behest.  Why?  If Frey has information like _that_ , why keep him away?”

“I should _probably_ look into that as soon as my decryption program,” also known as Jarvis.  “Finishes breaking into SHIELDS secure files.”  Tony said.

“Have to beat me to them.”  Frey grinned over at the inventor, holding up the wireless keyboard to the computer he’d been using while Tony was stuck with just a bug and a Starkphone – granted, a kickass custom Starkphone but a phone nonetheless…if one didn’t take the AI into account.

“Marry me.”  Tony responded at once, Frey throwing back his head and laughing once more.

“I’m sorry, did you say…”  Steve started.

“Jarvis has been running since I hit the bridge.”

“I started when I got here, had to pause while I went out to fetch our wayward Jotun but started again while you lot were busy watching Loki like he’d suddenly sprout tentacles.”

Bruce wheezed a coughing laugh, ducking to avoid Steve’s half-disappointed half-angry-at-the-hackers gaze of doom.

They really were perfect together.  He was tempted to go find Thor – or Coulson – and make a bet over whether they’d end up in bed or killing each other – or both.

“In a few hours –“ Tony arched a brow at Frey who held up one hand parallel to the floor and waggled it.  “We’ll know every dirty secret SHIELD ever tried to hide.  Blueberry?”

“And you wonder why SHIELD didn’t want to bring you in?”  Steve asked incredulous – and getting angrier.

“In my defense.”  Frey told them, moving forward as he felt his father’s spell that he’d replicated on the decoy sinking hooks into the men.  “SHIELD had no proof that I had the capability to hack them…at the time.”

“But they knew you were trouble.”  Steve shot back.  “ _Both_ of you.”

“An intelligence agency that _fears_ intelligence.”  Tony reared back, near-mocking.  “Historically not awesome.”

“I think Loki is trying to wind us up.”

“Ding, ding, ding.”  Frey said, ringing an imaginary bell.  “We have a winner.  Now if everyone will _calmly_ step away from the magical artefact that is trying to get you to start swinging on each other that would be much appreciated.”

“What?”  Three voices said in chorus, all of the mortals – or semi-mortal in the case of the Captain – taking a step back, except for Tony, contrary creature that he was, stepping to the side and into Frey’s space.

“The thoughts are yours – don’t worry.”  Frey calmed them down, almost reading the spike of paranoia straight from their heads.  “But the anger – that’s, well, _that_.”  Frey jerked his chin towards the glowing blue stone.  “One of Loki’s spells, no doubt.”

“Can you defuse it?”  Tony asked.  “Or something?”

“With time, yes.”  Frey said drily – and that was no lie.  If he had to unwind it the long way, it would take days or more to undo.  Fortunately, Frey had access to most of the same powers as Loki – when Loki was using everything at his disposal anyway – and could do it faster than that.  Earlier all he’d done was move it from scepter to decoy, not bothering with unwinding it.  “And _quiet_.”

“Steve,” Bruce whispered, tugging Tony along with him over to the computer banks and away from the scepter.  “Tell me none of this smells just a little funky to you.”

Steve looked away and then bit out: “Just find the cube.”  And took his leave.

“There really a spell on that thing?”  Tony asked Frey once Bruce had released his grip on Tony and he’d managed to rejoin Tall-Dark-and-Sexy.  “Like a real, _magic_ spell?”

“Magic is just a word.”  Frey explained absently, eyes focused on things that Tony couldn’t see – and wasn’t that a kick in the ass for the genius.  “One that brings up crones with warts or Merlin and his staff and beard.  It’s energy at it’s core.”

“Then…”  Tony frowned.  “Anyone could use it, in theory, if they knew how?”

“Yes and no.”  Frey answered.  “Pre-purposed things like this?  Yes.  Even someone as magical as your average doorknob could get this thing to work if they had enough will.  Think of it like…”  Frey thought a moment then decided on a metaphor.  “A programming language, one that you’re either born knowing or not.  Someone could pick up a phone you’d programed, or a computer, or a toy, but they wouldn’t be able to rewrite the code or tinker with it – just use it as-is.”  Frey shrugged, then said fuck it and continued.  “That’s most of what you’d call magic – the ability to program an energy source for use.”

“Most?”  Tony arched a brow, filing Frey’s information away for later, then fielded a devilish grin from the sexy thing with one of his own.

“A sorcerer has to keep _some_ secrets from a man like you Mr. Stark.”  Frey replied, leaning into the inventor’s space.  “Or what else would I have to keep you over here when you could be talking science with Dr. Banner?”

“That is an amazingly… _hot_ point.”  Tony pouted a moment.  “Hold that thought?”

“Of course.”  Frey winked and moved back to focus on the fake scepter.  “You know where to find me once you’ve worn out your brain-twin.”

“So. Unbelievably.  Sexy.  Right now.”  Tony blew out a breath then put a pause on his arousal, planning to pick right back up once there was no chance of them getting blown up mid-coitus.

…

“Are you seriously thinking of zooming on a species-unknown _magic_ alien, Tony?”  Bruce whispered later, after Frey had disappeared at a summons from Thor and Bruce and Tony had had a heart-to-reactor over monsters and terrible privileges.

“Really, Bruce?”  Tony arched a brow.  “He’s basically science in a sexy, utterly fuckable form.  Of course I’m going to go for it.  It’s like you don’t know me _at all_.”

“Right…”  Bruce snickered.  “Because nothing says familiarity like being willing to get Hulk-Smashed on first acquaintance.”

“Exactly, my dear Rage Monster, _exactly_.”

…

“Where’s everyone?”  Frey asked Thor after casting a silencing net around them with a simple flex of will.  That they were standing out on the deck enjoying the wind – and in Frey’s case the night sky – helped more than a bit with keeping his magic usage under SHIELD’s radar.

Like he’d said to Tony…a sorcerer needed to keep some secrets.

“I left Fury, Friend Phil, and Lady Natasha are debating tactics and strategy on the bridge.”  Thor crossed his arms over his massive chest.  “While the good Captain is investigating things I would mayhap think SHIELD would prefer left alone…thanks to a bit of prodding from your mind-strong friends in the laboratory.”  Thor cast a perceptive glance at the often-strange son of Loki.  “Tell me Frey, are things going as you’d like them?”

“Like?”  Frey scoffed.  “No, not anymore than you are at ease with the state of things.  But as I have said, anyone strong enough to bend Loki to their will is a threat to everything we love – not just my father.  I have not yet discerned the fullness of the plot…but now that you have called me away, I just may be able to get a glimpse of the mind behind it.”

“The scepter?”  Thor asked, more than familiar with the _ways_ of seidr if not all that comfortable practicing it himself.

“Mmm.”  Frey nodded, then faded from view, his voice echoing in the night air after him.  “Keep them out of trouble for an hour or so, yeah?  And send up a prayer to the Lady Frigga that who – or what – is on the other end of that device that they don’t melt my brain into bilgesnipe drool.”

“As you wish…”  Thor murmured, then turned and made his way back into the helicarrier.

At least with the deep night there were fewer humans scurrying here-and-there, and soon even the scientists and spies would succumb to sleep’s tempting embrace.

…

Under a pretense of checking on the others from New Mexico, pretending a bit of a – as Frey would call it – a _crush_ on Lady Jane Foster, Thor moved to the bridge and engaged friend Phil, who told him of the Lady Jane’s assignment and move to a remote observatory to keep her out of Loki’s hands.

“It’s no accident Loki took Erik Selvig after seeing the events from my brother’s arrival here.”  Thor told the agent.  “He was a decent man, I dread what the twisted creature that has burrowed into Loki plans for him – for them both – once it is done.”  Thor sighed, falling into pace with Coulson as they walked along the bridge.  “It is as if the mad creature who captured him suppressed all the good and wonderful things that made Loki, _Loki_ , and left only the worst of him – or those things that could be twisted to its purpose – behind.  It troubles me, deeply.”

“I can’t speak for Loki.”  Coulson grimaced, feeling for Thor.  Granted, Loki wasn’t his husband, but a brother’s bond of a thousand years would be in many ways just as deep as the one Phil shared with Clint.  “But I know just _meeting_ you changed Erik – changed everything around here.”

Thor chuckled a little.  “As I am sure meeting Frey changed you as well.  Still.”  Thor sighed.  “I am still uncertain that these changes are for the better.  There are good reasons – _reasoned_ , logical arguments – for why Asgard and the other advanced realms stopped visiting Earth, why Frey lives under a ruse and not openly among you.”  He shook his head.  “I fear that Earth was not _ready_ for what my banishment caused, another sin to weigh on my conscience until Ragnarok.  I came here, and the others after me, rampaging like bilgesnipe.”

“Like what?”  Coulson asked, confused.

“Bilgesnipe?”  Thor repeated, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed.  “Big, scaley, huge antlers.”  He held his hands up to his head in illustration.  “You don’t have those?”

“Ah, no.”

“Oh.”  Thor shrugged, continuing to walk towards the glass windows of the bridge, staring back out over the night as he hid his worry over what Frey was likely attempting even as they spoke.  “Well, they’re repulsive.”  He hesitated then continued.  “And they trample everything in their path.”

A moment of silence passed and then he finished his thought.

“When I came here, enemies followed me, and without Frey’s help your people would have paid the price.”  Thor looked down.  “And now again…  In my youth I courted war, but this?”  He lost himself in his thoughts for a moment, only interrupted by Fury’s voice.

“War hasn’t started yet.”  Nick interrupted the blond’s self-pitying spiral.  “You think you can make Loki tell us where the Tesseract is?”

“I do not know.”  Thor answered, hoping that Fury wasn’t going to step over the line and ask something untoward of him.  “Loki’s mind is far afield, and damaged by what has been done to him.  In such a state, I do not know what could be brought to bear against him that would prise the truth from him.”

“A lot of guys think that.”  Fury continued, pressing.  “Until the pain starts.”

“Before you ask me something you cannot un-ask.”  Thor looked up at the commander of SHIELD.  “You should speak to Frey.  If there is anyone who might see a way through to the truth of things, able to peal back the levels of deception and wounded rage to the _real_ Loki, it’s him.”

“And why would that be, I wonder?”  Fury asked, brows raised in surprise.  “He’s _your_ brother after all.  From what I understand, he doesn’t even recognize Frey…if he knew him in the first place.”

Thor paused a moment, giving thought to how to phrase his next words without giving Frey’s secret – the major one they both were keeping – away.

“They are alike in many ways.”  Thor said at last.  “I know them both, have _known_ them both for many years.  When Loki is himself they are much cut from the same length of cloth.  Before you resort to tactics that would bring war upon you – for make no mistake that is what you risk for _that_ avenue of information seeking – try using the peaceful means you have at hand.”

“Except we _don’t_ have Dr. Black at hand.”  Natasha spoke up, melting out of the shadows in an uncanny echo of Frey’s habit, though in her case it was born from a spy’s skill, not a god’s power.  “He can’t be located anywhere on the helicarrier.”

“He’ll be found when he wants to be found.”  Thor told them, chuckling a bit.  “He’s a sorcerer, not a trained hound or an agent under your control.  Perchance…have you checked near Loki’s cell?”

Trading a glance, Natasha and Nick turned and made for the cell in question, Phil and Thor following at a much more sedate pace, even as Phil took over one of the unused screens in the lab and patched in the surveillance feed from the walkway abutting the glass cage, Tony and Bruce barely looking up from their work.

And sure enough, when they all arrived at the cell, Frey was there leaning against the control panel and eyeing Loki, as if he’d never disappeared on them at all.

…

While Thor was blocking Fury’s attempt at asking him to possibly torture his own brother – something that had an eavesdropping Frey seething – Frey was appearing back on the helicarrier, feeling like he’d just gone nine-rounds with Kronus.

Though he didn’t have a _name_ for the being on the other end of the scepter, he had gotten a sense of intentions – and possibilities.

It _loved_ Death.

It wanted to _court_ Death.

And not Hela or Thanatos or one of Death’s Avatars either – but Death itself.

Crazy, thy name is…whatever it is.

And wanting to do it by wiping out all life in the Universe Cosmic was just asinine.

While Frey’s very nature since his Ascending and being made the Avatar of Chaos was in many ways chaos, he still understood the need of balance, perhaps because of his also being the god of Darkness and Shadow.

Being in dominion over Darkness and Shadow didn’t make him hate Light or the beings and creatures that were light in nature such as most of elven kind or the fae.

Darkness, let alone Shadows, wouldn’t exist without their counterpart, and neither would Death without Life.

So much so, that it was a rare universe where the two weren’t enjoined in some way, and usually their Avatars with them.

It was the _possibles_ that he’d seen that had set his feet firmly onto a singular path, however.

Futures where the multiverse was nothing but ash, where his father died, where Loki spent years muzzled and in chains.  Where a megalomaniac experimented on heroes, and the Avengers never are.

It would _not_ do.

And as it would not do, Frey needed to adjust course, just a bit, and involve himself more actively with events.

Sitting out, watching and learning wasn’t an option anymore.

Too high would be the price of lives if he continued on his course, the would-be Avengers would never trust him…and worse, his father would be disappointed in his choice of trading innocents for Loki…even if his father would do exactly the same in his boots.

Whatever that creature was, it was determined to lay waste to all the realms.

Asgard and Jotunheim, and yes _Earth_ would all have to work together to stop it.

Which also meant that it wasn’t only Frey’s preferences that would be best served by having Loki Silver-tongue free and whole once more.

If there was anyone who could help him band the realms together against a common foe and despite old wounds, it would be him.

Now…how to go about it was the challenge.

Much of the groundwork had already been laid by Loki – though he wasn’t consciously aware of it – fighting through the orders given to him by a creature whose name Frey _had_ gleaned through the scepter, a general to the being the scepter’s stone currently answered to called The Other.

Frey would need to do some serious damage control, but if he was cunning enough, clever enough, he _might_ be able to buy himself – and the realms – the time they needed to prepare for what was coming.

“It’s a rare being that can sneak up on me.”  Loki turned from his pacing with a quirky half-smile on his face, turning to stare at Frey.

“You had to know I would come.”  Frey told him as Fury, Coulson, Natasha, and Thor stopped and stood just out of view of the cell, the others watching through the cameras – save Steve who was too busy digging into the dirty secrets of his finders.

“You?  No.”  Loki told him honestly.  “Somehow, someway, you never quite breech my thoughts unless you are right in front of me – clever trick that.  I expected the woman – the Widow.  Or perhaps her friend the Widower.”

Coulson hissed out a breath at the jab over his husband being taken, Loki’s eyes flickering with triumph at confirming that they weren’t as alone at it appeared.

“I have a few up my sleeves.”  Frey agreed, grinning.  “Would you like to see another?”

Glances down below were exchanged, and Thor’s eyes shot wide in comprehension as there was a soft _pop_ followed a split-second later by a second.

The blond rushed up the steps, his companions on his heels, only to stumble to a stop at the sight of Frey and Loki staring each other down with a few bare inches between them, each with their hands held casually behind their backs.

To Thor, it was shocking – seeing them both calm and face-to-face, as the last time, the _only_ time he had really seen the two together was in the midst of battle – the features were so similar but as he had once mused, with very obvious mistakes.

To the spies and agent, something about the scene lifted the hair on the back of their necks, as knowledge flittered just out of their reach thanks to old spellwork laid down by the two.

In the lab, Tony just shook his head when no one commented on what he obviously _saw_.

Brothers, Tony finally put it into words – if only in his mind – maybe father and son or close cousins, but there was no doubt seeing them that close, even if Frey was several inches taller and much broader.

They were _family_.

Which made the puzzle of _why_ Loki didn’t know that, that much more interesting.

The mental damage Frey and Thor had alluded to earlier was a most likely source, but Tony had to wonder.

If mind-control was possible, was erasing memories – maybe even enough to erase a _person_ from someone’s mind – a thing?

“And not yet.”  Loki continued with a mere arch of a brow – but no surprise – as the other magical being on board the flying vessel appeared in his “secure” cell.  Would the others be bright enough to realize that Loki could do the same – he would bet _not_.  Or at least, not in _time_.  “After.  After whatever tortures Fury could concoct, whatever pain they thought might move me, one of them would have appeared as a balm, a sweet release afterwards, a gentle hand, a sweet voice, and hope to woo my trust and my confidence into their hands.”

“It wouldn’t have worked.”  Frey smirked, simply turning on his heel as Loki began to prowl around him, his father unknowingly copying Frey’s patterns of movement in his more _predatory_ mindset than the smooth elegance Loki was known for.  “Not on you.”

“No.”  Loki confirmed, returning the smirk.  “And not from them.  I am not so weak that I would seek succor from lesser beings.”

“I’m not a lesser being.”  Frey arched a brow.  “Would you accept it from me?”

“Hmm.”  Loki hummed, as their audience shifted uncomfortably.  “You are a tempting morsel.  But not – I don’t think – for me.  Though.”  He frowned a bit, back to the cameras and watching humans.  “I don’t know why.”

“You still can’t place me, can you?”  Frey asked gently, watching his eyes flash.  “That you do not know _me_ tells more than you know.  How long were you with the Other?”

“I fell.”  Loki told him, half speaking to his _guest_ and half to himself.  “From the Bi-Frost, more like being thrown down.  I fell a long way, saw things that…”  Loki broke off shaking his head as his eyes flickered between green and blue, hands rising to clasp the sides of his face.  “That would break a lesser mind.  And then I crashed into a rock, deep in the vastness of space, and then I was found by the Other.  How did you know?”

“That you have to ask.”  Frey said, voice quiet – and if one knew him – hurting.  “Says more than you think.”

“Who _are_ you?”  Loki breathed, eyes wide, hands snapping out and grabbing hold of Frey’s shirt, shaking the larger male furiously.  “Why does my mind fight me when I see your face?!”

“What have you done to Agent Barton?”  Frey asked in turn, watching as something – not realization, but close – lit in those warring eyes.  Muffling the scepter in silk, and unwinding some of the spellwork on the clone had done more than he’d thought it would.

Good.

“I would say…”  Loki trailed off, mind rushing hither and yon as he latched onto the lead the other had given him in the guise of following the wordless order from Director Fury, the black man fuming on the other side of the glass, releasing the magic user and allowing him to step back – and _though_ – the cell wall onto the walkway.  “I have expanded his mind.”

“And after you’ve won?”  Natasha asked, exchanging a glance with Coulson.  “What happens to his mind?”

“Oh.”  Loki arched a brow, glancing between the Black Widow and his best minion’s husband.  “Is this _love_ Agent Romanoff?”

“Love is for children.”  She said, not flinching a bit at the glares that got her from both Phil and Thor – and shockingly enough, Frey.  “I owe him a debt.”

“Tell me.”  Loki said simply, going to sit against the far wall.

“Is he serious?”  Fury hissed at Frey and/or Thor.

“Very.”  Thor supplied.  “Loki has ever been in the business of exchanging information.”

“He wouldn’t have been a very good diplomat – let alone spymaster.”  Frey snarked, relishing the look of shock on the face of the man who had wanted to _torture his mentally compromised father_ , at that bit of information.  “If he wasn’t.  Don’t underestimate the motivations he can glean, the facts he can postulate even from the simplest of stories and compromised as his current state is.”

“Before I worked for SHIELD, I ah.”  Natasha gave Loki a knowing half-smile.  “I made a name for myself.  I have a very _specific_ skill set.”

“Ah yes, the Black Widow.”  Loki mused, then twirled his hand in mid-air.  “Do go on.”

“I didn’t care who I used it for.”  Natasha tilted her head a bit.  “Or on.  I got on SHIELD’s radar in a bad way.  Agent Barton was sent to kill me.”  Natasha smiled softly over at a blank-faced Coulson.  “Instead he brought me in.  So you see, I owe him a debt.”

“Oh but I like this.”  Loki grinned leaning forward.  “I’m sure your commander is fuming inside as he stands there, held back by my brother.”

And Loki was right, Fury looked to live up to his name, as Thor literally held him back, arms banded around Fury’s chest from behind, hands keeping the man from reaching for his sidearm.

“The fate of your world in the balance, and you two.”  Loki’s eyes flicked between Natasha and Coulson.  “Bargain for the fate of _one_ man.”

“Regimes rise and fall every day.”  Natasha arched brow.  “I tend not to weep over that, I’m Russian – or I was.”

“And what are you now?”

“It’s really not that complicated.”  Natasha crossed her arms over her chest.  “I’ve got red in my ledger, I’d like to wipe it out.”

“Can you?”  Loki asked softly.  “Can you _really_ hope to wipe out _that much_ red?”  His eyes flashed green, darting over towards Frey for a split second.

But that was all either of them needed.

“And we’re done.”  Frey told them, cutting off whatever cutting thing Loki had planned next.

“About time.”  Coulson swore under his breath as Nick was set down – gently – by Thor and strode off in a pure snit over the “mutiny.”

And if Coulson was any judge of his boss’s moods, about to take it out on his favorite target – Tony Stark.

“I hope it was worth it.”  Coulson muttered to Frey as they followed in Fury’s wake.  “He’s going to hold a grudge over that little scene.”

“It was.”  Frey told him simply.  “And once Fury comes down from living up to his name, I’ll tell you why.”

…

“What are you _doing_ Mr. Stark?”  Nick reined it in – at least a little – as Maria’s voice came over his comm telling him of Tony’s predictable, but irritating, deep dive into their systems.  Moreover, he hated being blindsided, and that was what his one good eye had just done to him – in front of a hostile force and a pair of aliens nonetheless.

“Funny.”  Tony said, barely less than seething himself.  “I’ve been wondering the same thing about you, Nick.”

“You’re supposed to be locating the Tesseract.”

“We are.”  Banner piped in, arms folded across his chest as Tony sat, one hip propped on a table.  “The signal’s locked and we’re sweeping for the signature now.  When we get a hit.”  He pointed over to one of the computer screens.  “We’ll get a location within half a mile.”

“You’ll get your cube back.”  Tony told him, typing away at a console.  “No fuss, no muss.  What _is_ Phase Two?”  He asked as Jarvis burrowed through another firewall, helped – rather than hampered – by whatever program Frey had implanted to hack SHIELD as well.

Showing impeccable timing as always – Tony was half-certain that it was one of his superpowers – Steve strode in and slammed a new-age gun down on the table holding the scepter that they were arranged around, Coulson, Natasha, Frey, and Thor coming in on his heels.

Thor edged around Fury to stand between the spy and Bruce, while Frey came over and cocked his head studying the schematics that Tony was bringing up on the screen as Coulson stood between Fury and Frey, Natasha moving to flank her boss.

“Phase Two is SHIELD uses the cube to make weapons.”  Steve announced.  “Sorry, Stark but the computers were moving a little slow for me.”

Fury backpaddled, moving over towards the in-high-dudgeon Captain America.

“SHIELD gathered everything related to the Tesseract, it does not _mean_ …”

“I’m sorry, Nick.”  Tony cut off his evasion as Frey brought up a schematic that exactly matched the gun on the table, bringing it up alongside what looked to Tony like a cube-powered-nuke.  “What were you lying?”

“I was wrong, Commander.”  Steve scoffed.  “The world hasn’t change _a bit_.”

“Did you know about this?”  Bruce asked Natasha, pointing to the schematic as Coulson just shrugged.

Of course he knew, and no one was surprised.  Though how hard he had fought both his boss and the WSC on it would likely shock Tony if nothing else.

“You want to think about removing yourself from the situation Doctor Banner?”  Natasha asked, Frey having filled them in on the picture he’d gotten from Loki’s mind – of a transformed Hulk smashing his way through the helicarrier while Loki escaped with help from Barton…and the scepter.

Bruce laughed.  “I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed.”

“Loki is manipulating you.”

“And you’ve been doing _what_ exactly?”

“You didn’t come here because I bat my eyelashes at you.”  Natasha said pointedly.

“Yes,” Bruce conceded before turning it back around.  “And I’m not leaving because suddenly you got a little twitchy.  I’d like to know what SHIELD is doing using the Tesseract to make weapons of mass destruction.”  He said, pointing with his glasses at the schematic.

“Because of them.”  Fury said after a long moment, waving from Frey to Thor.

“I told you not to do anything _stupid_ out of fear, Agent Coulson.”  Frey spoke in a soft tone of censure.

“And if you think I have any clout with the WSC, you’re dreaming.”  Phil said with his infamous dry snark.  “It was all I could manage to keep Nick from going off the rails completely as it was.”

Fury continued despite the byplay – even though that byplay was vastly interesting to several others in the room.

“Last year Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a death-match with another trio of off-world visitors and help from someone who was _supposed_ to be plain-jane-human…until he threw down against someone who throw cars around like tinker-toys and didn’t flinch at getting shot fully of arrows from one of the deadliest men I know.”  Fury explained.  “We learned that not only are we not alone, and hadn’t ever been so, but that we are hopeless, hilariously, _outgunned_.”

“My people want nothing but peace with Earth.”  Thor spoke up, offended.

“But you’re not the only people out there, as your friend made abundantly clear.”  Fury shot back, jerking his head towards Frey.  “Hell, we _still_ don’t even know what species he is.”

Frey just shrugged, not debating the accusation of being less-than-open with his origins as Tony snickered a bit.

“And.”  Fury continued.  “You’re not the only threat.  This world is filling up with people that can’t be matched, can’t be controlled.”

“It’s called evolution Fury.”  Frey snarked, interrupting his self-justifying speech.  “You want to even the playing field?”  He cocked a brow and a hip nearly in unison, _attitude_ screaming out at the others.  “You should try embracing it instead of fearing it or scrambling to cover it up.  Humanity has to come up to scratch on it’s own.  And it’s _trying_ , all without help from a force you could never hope to contain.”

It flew over most of their heads, most of them too dug in to pay it any mind, though it would linger later, giving all of them something to think over.

“Like you controlled the cube?”  Steve shot at Fury as Thor stepped up to the plate.

“Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki and his controller to it.”  He said, in full aggressive-Thor mode.  “It is a signal – one Frey warned you against making – to all the realms and the universe Cosmic that the Earth is ready for a higher form of _war_.”

“He’s a god of war.”  Frey told them in the short silence that followed Thor’s announcement.  “He would know.”

“A higher form?”  Steve asked.

“You forced our hand.”  Fury replied to the blond mountain with legs.  “We had to come up with something…”

“A nuclear deterrent.”  Tony cut in.  “Because _that_ always calms everything right down.”

“Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?”  Fury spat back at the inventor.

“I’m sure if he still made weapons Stark would be neck deep…”  Steve drawled.

Frey just arched a brow as the net the scepter cast was tightening, the circle of people gathering closer and closer, waiting for the opportune moment to cut the spell off and help them regain their logical minds from underneath the danger.

But they needed to know.

They needed to see for themselves that magic wasn’t all illusions and energy balls.

At least, they did if he had any chance of convincing them to listen to him.

“Woah.”  Tony held up a hand, walking forward.  “How did this become about me?”

“I’m sorry, isn’t everything?”  Steve snarked back with the best of them.

Frey sat back and watched as the barbs flew fast and furious between them, just watching as even Thor fell into the trap of the scepter, only moving to nudge Bruce a little closer into the fold – and away from the scepter that was glowing and giving off a soft ringing to his magical senses.

“You speak of control and yet you court Chaos.”  Thor blustered out, eyes darting to Frey who just let the jab wash over him, as the others failed to pick up on it.

“What are we, a team?”  Bruce asked, shaking his head.  “Or we’re a chemical mixture that _makes_ chaos.  We’re a, we’re a time-bomb.”

“You need to back away, Dr. Banner.”  Fury told him.

“Why shouldn’t he let off a little steam?”  Tony asked to Steve’s disdain.

“Because it’s dangerous to _all_ of us.”  Captain America snarled.  “You need to back off, Stark.”

“You know, I’m starting to want you to make me.”

“Oh yeah, big man in a suit of armor.”  Steve sneered.  “Take off that suit and what are you?”

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”  Tony rattled off.

Natasha smirked, tilting her head to the side.  It was the truth, after all.

Frey muffled a laugh, then snapped his fingers, breaking the spell that he’d been holding the strands of for hours and snapping them all out of the enraged haze that had covered their thoughts before anything _too much_ or _too far_ was said that couldn’t be taken back.

“What…?”  The others shook their heads, Coulson having remained calm along with Frey thanks to the magical protection the being had given him some time before, and Tony just being _Tony_ , but the others were disorientated even as they watched Frey move his hands in mid-air, glowing sigils surrounding the scepter and then sinking in or darting over to each of them and latching on.

“And that, lady and gentlemen.”  Frey told them with a devil-may-care smile.  “Is why you _don’t_ take a sorcerer into custody without having something to bind his powers.  The scepter was fucking with you.”

“Why didn’t you stop it earlier?”  Tony asked, as he saw the difference a few moments made when Frey snapped his fingers and did some sort of weird light-glowing-voodoo.

“You all needed to know.”  Frey told them, even Thor.  “Humans have dealt only rarely with arcane arts, and the Aesir don’t respect it.  I thought a little show and tell might _enlighten_ you as to the very real high-stakes threat you’re dealing with – though don’t believe for a _moment_ that I have dropped the subject of Phase Two, Director Fury.”  He warned, eyes flashing.

Turning his head, he looked over at Bruce.

“The goal of that little play by Loki was to sink some hooks into the _Other Guy_ , which is why Natasha wanted to remove you from the room.”  He told him.  “However…I have a better idea.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”  Fury half-snarled.

Frey smiled, eyes glittering.

“We give Loki what he wants…”

 


	6. Loki's Son

** Truth Will Rise **

_“Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are.”_

_Niccolo Machiavelli_

**Chapter Five: Loki’s Son**

Before Frey could do much more than snap his fingers and lay out a dramatic, mind-grabbing statement ala his father, the computer trilled out a warning.

There was an energy match…and it was right on top of them.

“Doctor Banner.”  He snapped, stepping up and out of the shadows.  He wasn’t about to let the Hulk get free in a helicarrier full of innocent – or not so innocent – lives.  “I don’t have time to explain, but I need to sedate you.  Will you allow it?”

Beside him, as Natasha and Coulson rushed off with Fury and left the rest of the inmates in charge of the asylum, Steve told Tony to “put on the suit”, Tony darting off to do just that after a glance at Frey, who gave him a nod and tapped the ever-present ear piece that he spoke into as soon as Banner had agreed – quickly at that – and he’d hit him with a _Stunner_ meant to be used on dragons, not wanting to take a chance on Bruce shaking off a normal one.

“Try and avoid collateral damage.”  Frey ordered through his ear-piece to the others, Fury repeating them over the PA.  “Remember, these are our _friends_ , our _allies_ …they just don’t remember that.”

“Roger that.”  Steve agreed.  “We need a call sign for you, and Thor.”

“Thor doesn’t need another call sign but will answer to Thunderer.”  Frey told them, as the god in question helped Frey secure the good doctor in an out-of-the-way storage room, quickly throwing up some protection wards before manipulating the deep shadows in the helicarrier hallway to cover the door.  “But you can call me Chaos.”

“Hmm.”  Tony hummed as he suited up, Jarvis loading his HUD as an explosion sounded and shook the helicarrier all around them.  “Why do I think that’s more appropriate then we think?”

“Because you’re not an idiot – most of the time.”  Coulson told him in his always-calm voice.  Natasha had split off to try and intercept Clint – it could be no one else – while Coulson had picked up the cube-powered gun that Steve had brought into the lab and headed for Loki’s cell, quickly being overtaken by a flying Thor.

“What’s the play?”  Natasha asked.

“They wanted the Hulk as a distraction, but I’ve got Banner sedated.”  Frey reported.  “I’ll use my illusions, like earlier, but to put on a show combined with my other powers that the Hulk has gone on a rampage and is thrashing his way through SHIELD’s men.  Thor.”

“Aye.”

“Before Loki has “tricked” you,” Frey smirked knowing that even though they all knew it was coming Loki probably still _was_ going to get one over on his straight-forward brother.  “Make your way to the lower hanger and engage with my illusion Hulk.  It’ll still hurt you if it hits you.”  The warning was for more than Thor.  “It’s more clone or simulacrum than illusion…have to make them think everything is going to Loki’s plan after all…if we want them to lead us to the Tesseract.”

More than one of the others made a noise of surprise as they either engaged the incoming aggressors, or in the case of Ironman and Captain America tried to keep the helicarrier flying.

Most of them had wondered what Frey had meant by giving Loki what he wanted.

A trap within a trick.

“You _are_ a tricksy one aren’t you gorgeous?”  Tony murmured before letting himself sink into the problem at hand and leaving the enigma of Frey for later, once there weren’t mind-controlled thugs trying to shoot him out of the air or a rotor trying to make mincemeat out of him.

…

In his cell, Loki heard the roar of Dr. Banner’s beast…and he smiled.

…

Swinging his way up to the control panel, Steve looked at the rows of flashing lights and circuitry.

“What’s it look like in there?”  Tony asked, trying to make his way to the rotor to dislodge the debris.

Steve gave a self-deprecating little laugh and said: “It seems to run on some kind of electricity.”

“Well.”  Tony had to give him that one.  “You’re not wrong.”

…

“Get us over water.”  Fury ordered his bridge crew.  “We lose another turbine and we’ll drop.”

“The guidance system is recalibrating since losing engine three.”  One of his minions – er – _agents_ reported.

“Is the sun coming up?”  Fury asked, the _you dumb motherfucker_ being implied.

“Uh, yes?”

“Then put it on our _left_ and get us over _water_!”

…

Elsewhere, Hawkeye snapped out orders to his men, sending some to keep the engine down, others to help retrieve their boss from detention, and keeping some with him to keep the SHIELD agents running.

…

Meanwhile, Frey’s simulacrum was doing one hell of a job making noise but no real damage, chasing a clone of Natasha through the lower levels of the helicarrier and onto the lower hanger bay where Thor would eventually arrive to “save” her from being smashed.

“We’re not your enemies Banner.”  Thor said as he blocked a smashing punch from the green rage monster, cursing Frey all the while for making it so damn close to the real thing.

The “Hulk’s” response was a roar, Frey giving into an impulse he’d had for _years_ to get rid of the last lingering bit of resentment over how Thor and his friends had treated his father, letting his clone of the Hulk flying with a massive fist and send Thor smashing _though_ some crates.

“Was that really necessary?”  Thor hissed into the ear-piece as he stood on shaky legs.

Frey’s laughter was all the got back in response, though it was good-natured at least.

Fine then, Thor let it go with an eye-roll, knowing from Frey’s perspective he probably had that one coming.

…

Tony talked Steve through making sure all the relays were intact as he blasted his way through to the damaged rotor.

“Ok, the relays are intact.”  Steve reported, shutting the control panel.  “What’s our next move?”

“Even if I clear the rubble.”  Tony said as he looked out over the damage on his HUD.  “This thing won’t re-engage without a jump…I’m going to have to get in there and push.”

“Once that thing gets up to speed you’ll be shredded.”  Steve protested.

“That control panel should be able to reverse the polarity long enough to disengage mag lev and that should…”

“Speak _English_ , Stark.”  Steve reminded him of who he was talking to.

Tony gave a mental eye-roll.

“See that red lever?”  He coached Rip Van Winkle through the process.  “It should slow the rotors down long enough for me to get out.  Stand by it and wait for my word.”

…

Down below, Thor had gotten tired of being tossed around, summoning Mjolnir and starting to give some of his own back against Frey’s clone of the great beast, knowing that it would have to be defeated before he could make his way to confronting Loki and falling into whatever trap his brother had planned for him.

…

On the bridge, Fury and Hill were kicking some ass of their own, as Hawkeye’s men attacked the bridge…and despite Frey’s earlier warning they put them down.

Over the intercom came: “Thor and the Hulk have crashed through to research level four, levels two and three are compromised.”

While Fury was cursing Frey up one side and down the other in his head, knowing the damage his “clone” of the Hulk was causing was his way – likely – of getting back at him over the Tesseract, Hill shouted:  “The Hulk is going to tear the ship apart.”

“Then get his attention.”  Fury yelled back, shooting a few more of Hawkeye’s troops in aggravation.

...

Outside, a quinjet opened fire on the “Hulk.”

“Target acquired.”  The pilot reported, using his guns on the green rage monster.

Moments later, the pilot’s eyes opened wide with shock as the “Hulk” turned and ran towards it.

“Target _Angry!_ ”  The pilot shouted, quickly reversing as the “Hulk” ran out of the helicarrier in a massive leap, missing the quinjet’s nose by a hair…mainly because Frey didn’t want to take down the pilot, just give a reason why the “Hulk” wasn’t rampaging through the helicarrier anymore.

…

Tony worked on cutting away and clearing the debris, as armed men moved in on where Captain America was waiting to pull the lever.

…

On the bridge, Fury was facing a much larger problem, as too busy with the drones, he missed the Hawk, Hawkeye sending out a pair of arrows, one causing an explosion as a diversion and the second hacking and scrambling the helicarrier’s control systems.

Something that was a little hard _not_ to notice as engine one shut down and the helicarrier began to tip and go down.

“Chaos.”  Fury growled out.  “ _Now_ would be a good time for you to show off some of your skills.”

“All in good time, Director.”  Frey told him quietly from where he was wrapped in the shadows, keeping an eye on his father.  He switched over to a private line between the two of them.  “You’ve gathered a team – now let them become one.”

Growling more than a bit over that, Fury switched back to the group comm.

“It’s Barton.”  He reported – mostly to Widow.  “He took out our engine and is headed to the detention level.  Does anybody copy?”

“This is Romanoff.  I copy.”

…

“Stark, we’re losing altitude.”

“Yep.”  Tony told Nick.  “Kinda noticed.”  He said and started to push the rotor.

…

On the detention level, Thor arrived just in time to see Loki opening the door to his cage.

“No!”  He shouted and ran to tackle his brother back into the cell…only to run right through another of Loki’s illusions as the god of Mischief and Chaos appeared standing next to the control panel and shut the door behind his buffoon of a brother.

“Are you ever _not_ going to fall for that?”  Loki asked as he sent his minions away with a wave of his hand.

Frey watched from the shadows, half his mind there, and half keeping a mental eye on the others.

He wouldn’t let them fall, just before they rose to greatness.

This world – this multiverse – simply needed _all_ of them, even Fury, too much for him to do otherwise.

Though if it came down between them and his family…well.

There was no need to dwell on what Frey would do, given the highs – and lows – that protecting his loved ones had driven him too in the past.

Most of these would-be heroes had already experienced the lows.

It was time they found the highs.

…

Hawkeye easily made his way through the underbelly of the helicarrier, only to be attacked from the shadows.

The Black Widow had found her target.

…

Thor swung Mjolnir wide, slamming it into the reinforced glass polymer that made up the cell walls, only to frown – and Loki beam gleefully – when it failed to break, merely crack, and the cell shook in its moorings.

Loki chuckled softly.

“The humans think us immortal.”  He told his brother as he moved closer to the control panel Fury had so obligingly shown him how to work.  “Shall we test that?”

The sound of one of his minions dropping stole Loki’s attention, the form of Phil Coulson standing tall – with a rather _large_ weapon in hand – from behind the fallen form.

“Move away, please.”  Phil told the puppet – and puppet-master – politely.

Loki’s hand hovered over the drop-switch.

“You like this?”  Phil asked, moving forward with his steady pace.  “We started working on the prototype after Thor’s little _visit_ to New Mexico.”  He jerked a shoulder.  “Even I don’t know what it does.”  Phil armed the heavy gun.  “Want to find out?”  He asked as it lit up and glowed menacingly.

But Loki wasn’t there.

Loki was behind him.

And then Loki was stabbing him through the back, only a quick guiding spell from Frey – still hidden in the shadows – keeping it from hitting any vital organs or major arteries and veins.

“No!”  Thor roared from the cell as the tip of the scepter protruded from Phil’s abdomen.

Loki dropped the limp form down to sit next to the wall as his illusion dissipated, walking slowly over to the control panel as Thor watched – helpless and panting in his rage.

Blue eyes shot to the shadows as Loki focused on the drop switch, only to see the tell-tale sign of magical healing taking place over the slumped form of Coulson, the shadows surrounding the wounded man a bit deeper than was natural – all tells that Loki himself would know to look for…if only he could remember his own son and said son’s power.

With a look of glee, Loki opened the hatch, and smiled as he pressed the switch, sending the cell – and Thor – plummeting towards Earth.

Thor didn’t bother to scream, bracing himself with Mjolnir against one wall as Frey’s voice came through – in his mind, not his ear.

 _“You’ve already weakened it.”_ Frey murmured as he healed the worst of Coulson’s injuries – as much as he dared with his father free and standing mere feet away.  “ _Use your powers to break it.”_

 _“Which power?”_ Thor asked, already tightening his hand on Mjolnir and calling the storm.

Glass and steel.

Oh yes, he could break it.

“ _You already know_.”  Frey chided with a laugh.  _“Just hurry your muscled arse up and come help us make our way clear of Loki’s plot, so we can advance our own.”_

...

Natasha ducked and threw another punch, holding Clint in an armbar for a bare moment before he was spinning and loose, Natasha tangling him up in her legs as she ducked his knife.

They held it between them, fighting for control, then Natasha was whirling out with her legs, flipping Clint, and sending him head-first into the metal guardrail on the raised walkway.

“Argh.”  Clint groaned, huddled in on himself from the blow.  He slowly came up onto his hands and knees, then knelt looking up at Natasha out of his regular plain blue eyes.  “Tash…”

Taking no chances, even if it seemed he’d shaken the scepter’s control, Natasha slammed one fist into his jaw, laying him out.

…

Loki let go of the casing over the eject switch, blank-faced, and turned to walk away.

“You’re going to lose.”  Coulson told him, voice steady despite the weeping wound through his torso, ignoring the invisible hands that worked over him.

Loki stopped and turned back, facing the crumpled creature.

“Am I?”  He asked, eyes flickering even with the scepter in his hand.

“It’s in your nature.”  Coulson told him, blood trailing out of his mouth.

“Your heroes are scattered.  Your pet magician nowhere to be found.”  Loki stated, walking back towards the bloodied and dying man.  “Your floating fortress falls from the sky.”  He held out his hands.  “Where _is_ my disadvantage?”

Coulson looked up out of tired – and grieving – eyes.

“You lack conviction.”  He said, and pulled the trigger, blowing Loki through several walls even as Frey dropped his invisibility and finished healing his wound, tsking all the while.

“Was that _really_ necessary?”  Frey half-scolded the man who – dare he say it – was becoming a friend.

“It made me feel better.”  Coulson shrugged, unrepentant.

Frey rolled his eyes and stood.

“I’m needed elsewhere.  Don’t move too much, I healed it but you’ll be tired – easily drained – for it.  I don’t want to come looking for you only to find you fell to your death because you fainted from blood loss, clear?”

“Yes, Mummy.”  Coulson mocked Frey’s mottled British accent courtesy of his All-Speak upgrade.  “I’ll be a good lad.  Now go save the others…probably from themselves.”

With a jaunty salute, Frey stepped into shadows to do just that.

…

“Cap hit the lever.”  Tony said through the comm, unaware that the person in question was currently hanging on for his life to a cable, thrown back thanks to the goons who’d engaged him.

Frey stepped from the shadows into the control room, taking one look around and springing into action.

“I need a minute here!”  Cap shouted.

“Lever, _now_!”  Tony shouted back.

Cloning himself, his clone darting to help reel in Captain American and another pulling the red lever, Frey closed his eyes and focused, disappearing only to reappear in a vortex, hanging onto Tony’s Ironman armor for dear life.

Less than a second later, and they were falling onto the floor of the control room, Frey magic and will not correcting for their inertia in time as his other selves nodded, one helping Captain America stand, and then vanished in a cloud of black, green, purple, and gold dust-motes.

…

A quinjet flew through the sky, Loki safely ensconced in the back, as the call went out.

“Agent Coulson is down.”

“A medical team in en-route to your location.”

“They’re here.”  Fury said, looking at the passed-out form of his one good eye with zero remorse as the medical team whisked him away and into hiding elsewhere on the ship.

Coulson was right – as always.

This team was never going to work without the right _motivation_.

“They called it.”

…

Maria Hill stood silent as Fury spoke to Rogers and Stark, the two men the only ones present on the bridge and stripped down after their battle.

Natasha was busy watching over the reacquired Hawkeye, and Frey was busy inspecting Bruce and Thor for damage – one due to the heavy-duty sedation he had undergone and the other from his free-fall.

“These.”  Fury said, knowing that Phil was going to _murder_ him when he saw what he’d done to his pristine vintage Captain America trading cards.  “Were found in Coulson’s jacket.”  Fury tossed them over to a blank-faced Steve, Tony turned away – hiding his emotions, controlling them, had never been his forte.

Drinking them away, burying them in other person’s lust, _those_ were much more Tony Stark’s style.

“I guess he never got you to sign them.”

Fury sighed as Steve picked up one of the bloody cards.

“We’re dead in the air up here.  No communications, no location of the cube, I’ve got nothin’ for you.”  Fury sighed again, looking away.  “Lost my one good eye.”  He shook his head.  “Maybe I had that comin’.”  He started to pace around the table.  “Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract.  Agent Coulson lobbied against it, on advice from a being that even _now_ , maybe especially now, I am cautious to trust.  I never put all my chips on that number though, because I was playing something even riskier,” he chuckled.  “Never even expected Agent Coulson to deal me a card from the bottom of the deck on that one.  He always trusted Frey Black.  I still can’t.  Be even then…”  Fury trailed off.  “I can’t deny the _good_ he’s done today…even at the cost.  There was an idea.”  Fury continued.  “Stark knows this.”

Tony looked up.

“Called the Avengers Initiative.”  Fury paced back behind Stark.  “The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people.  See if they could become something _more_.”  Steve looked down, thoughtful, at the playing cards once more.  “See if they could come together when we needed them to, to fight the battles that we never could.”  Fury looked away from the Captain and directed his next words at Stark.  “Phil Coulson _died_ still believing in that idea.  In heroes.”

Tony stood abruptly, walking away.

“Well,” Fury said, watching him go.  “It’s an old-fashioned notion.”

…

In one of the medbay rooms, Clint Barton woke, ears ringing, head fuzzy, vision tinged pink and purple at the edges, and strapped to a chair.

Nat was there talking low.

“Clint.”  She said.  “You’re going to be alright.”

“You know that?”  Clint asked.  “Is that what you know?”

Natasha rose to the pitcher on the table.

“I can still feel him.”  Clint said.  “I gotta flush him out.”

“You need to level out.”  She responded, pouring him a glass of water.

“Have you ever had someone open up your brain and play with it?”  Clint asked, breathing ragged and panting.  But himself, nonetheless.  “Pull you out, stuff something else back in?”

Natasha locked eyes with Frey, who was on the other side of the window but she got the feeling was hearing every word nonetheless.

“Do you know what it’s like to be unmade?”

She glanced back down at her friend – sometimes she thought her _only_ friend.

“You know that I do.”

Clint sat up a little, breath still panting.  “Why am I back?  How’d you get him out?”

“Cognitive recalibration.”  Natasha told him, coming to sit next to him and handing over the water.  “I hit you really hard on the head.”

“Thanks.”  Clint said as she unlocked his bindings.  “Tasha…how many agents…?”

“Don’t.”  She told him, looking up sharply.  “It’s not your fault.  Don’t do that to yourself, Clint.”

He looked back at her, eyes hard and serious.

“This isn’t you.”  She continued.  “This is Loki, and whoever used that scepter on him.  This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.”

Clint reared back a bit, the meaning behind that floating through his mind…and explaining a lot now that things were starting to get clearer.

“Loki, he get away?”

“Don’t suppose you know where?”

“Didn’t need to know.  Didn’t ask.”

“Hmm.”  Natasha hummed.  “Guess be better hope that Black can follow through on his ability to track him then.”

“Black?”  Clint frowned.  “Frey Black?  From New Mexico, friends-ish with Phil?”

“The same.”  Natasha nodded as Clint moved to stand, watching as the others all gathered in the main part of the medbay, jerking her head towards where the being in question was now standing and talking to Thor, checking him over if she had to guess.  “There’s something I need to tell you about Phil…” She started, only to get cut off by Frey looking up and snapping his head in a clear “No.”

“What?  Where is he, anyway?”  Clint joked.  “Husband returns after being slapped silly by his best-friend and you’d think a guy could get a little loving.”

“C’mon, lover boy.”  Natasha took hold of one muscled arm as Tony stormed into the medbay and bee-lined for Frey, Steve on his heels.  “Looks like we’re meeting up next door to plan our next move.”

…

Steve found Tony standing next to the now-closed hatch, not far from where the blood was still staining the metal wall from Coulson’s body.

“He was married to Barton?”

“Yeah.”  Tony told him, still staring into the middle-distance.  “For years, I guess.”

“He seemed like a good man.”

Tony chuckled a little, nodding then said: “He was an _idiot_.”  Looking over at the watching Captain.

“Why?”  Steve frowned.  “For believing?”

“For taking on Loki alone.”  Tony moved off the ledge, moving towards Steve.

“He was doing his job.”

Tony scoffed, rolling his eyes.  “He was out of his league.”  Steve went to meet him.  “He should have waited, he should’ve…”

“Sometimes there isn’t a way out, Tony.”  Steve told him, understanding the angst and pain of losing a brother-in-arms.  Understanding it only _too_ well in the absence of Bucky.

“Right.”  Tony gasped.  “I’ve _never_ heard that before.”  He rattled his fingers over the glow of his chest reactor.

“Is this the first time you lost a soldier?”  Steve asked as Tony brushed past him.

Tony whipped around on him, outraged grief in every line of his face and form.

“We are _not_ soldiers.”  He raged.  “I am _not_ marching to Fury’s fife.”

“Neither am _I_.”  Steve told him, Tony blinking.  “He’s got the same blood on his hands that Loki – or whoever’s pulling his strings – does.  But right now we’ve gotta put that behind us and get this done.  Now, Loki needs a power source.  If we can put together a list…”

“He made it personal.”  Tony said, a light pinging on in his head.

“That’s not the point.”  Steve argued, trying to keep Tony on-track with Frey and Banner otherwise occupied.

“That _is_ the point.”  Tony shot back.  “ _That’s_ Loki’s point.  He hit us all right where we live, why?”

“To tear us apart.  We’ve heard over and over that he’s a tactician, it makes sense.”

“Divide and conquers’ great, but…”  Tony folded his arms, one finger shaking at Steve.  “He knows he has to take us out to win, right?  _That’s_ what he wants in the blue-haze that’s running him.  He wants to beat us, to be seen doing it.  He wants an audience.”  Tony realized, moving as his thoughts whirled.

“Right.”  Steve agreed.  “I caught his act at Stuttgart.”

“Yeah, that’s just previews.”  Tony rambled.  “This is opening night and Loki, he’s a prince, a _king!_ ”  Tony’s words came out faster and faster to keep up with his mind.  “Full-tilt diva, right?  Flowers, parades, he wants a monument touching the sky with his name plastered…sonuvabitch.”

Eyes popping open, Tony rushed away towards the medbay, Steve on his heels.

…

“It’s Stark _Tower_.”  Tony rushed into the medbay saying.  “He made it personal, said it himself, Bruce.”  Tony pointed at the other man who was being hovered over by a nurse, joined by a frowning Natasha with Barton on her heels.  “A warm light for all mankind to share.  _That’s_ where Loki is building his portal, with the Arc Reactor…what’s wrong?”

He fielded a look from Natasha and eyed a too-chipper Hawkeye.

“Haven’t you told him?”  Steve asked, spotting the problem that Tony had, Frey and Thor coming over and trading puzzled looks.

“Told him what?”  Frey asked.

“About Coulson.”  Natasha said.  “And no.”

“What about Coulson?”  Frey bit out, already tired of the evasion after the day they’d all had.  “He was fine – injured but healing – last I saw him.  So unless the idiot tried to go take on another god against all sanity, I don’t see what you’re all looking like somebody died for.”

“That’s just it.”  Tony told him softly, knowing that like him, Frey and Phil were friends, let alone having the man’s newly-widowed husband in the room.  “He did.  Phil, he…”

Frey snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Pull the other one, Tony.”  He said, tone slowly turning from exasperated to stunned as he took in the faces around him.  “But…no, no.”  He burst out.  “That’s bloody _impossible_ , I’m telling you!”

“Geez.”  Tony murmured to a listening Steve, watching Frey lose his shit.  “Denial much?  And I had my money on Hawkeye losing his shit not Chaos, here.”

“That’s just _it_ , Tony!”  Frey shouted, at the end of his tether.  “Coulson _isn’t dead_.  I’m monitoring him as we speak and he’s knocked-out, but stable, about two hundred feet that way.”  Frey pointed towards the far right-hand side wall of the medbay.  “So whoever said he was has one _sick_ sense of humor.”

It was like flipping a switch, three faced turning from sad for him to seething in the blink of an eye, Clint asking, “Tash?”

“Fury.”  Tony bit out, red rushing to his face before he could shove it back down.  “Bloodied up his trading cards just to make it look _authentic_ , give us that extra little push to form up into the Avengers.”

“Well, he’s right hacked me off.”  Frey said drily.  “Playing on your emotions like that.  That’s just not decent by any stretch of things.  And he’ll get his, what I want to know is about what you were saying when you came in here.”

“Stark Tower.”  Steve supplied, Tony seething in silent rage.  “That’s where Tony thinks Loki is building his portal.”

“It fits.”  Thor agreed.  “Lady Natasha, you said a blow to the head dislodged the scepters control over Agent Barton?”

“Yes.”  Clint answered for her.  “Still a little foggy, some stuff not quite coming through, but I’m me again despite the concussion.”

“Frey.”  Thor whispered, or what passed as a whisper in Thor-land.  “It’s time they were told.  They might have more care of Loki if so.”

“What do you mean?”  Steve asked.  “He’s compromised.  We’re not going to kill him.”

“As if you could.”  Thor rolled his eyes, Tony echoing the movement with a scoff over Thor’s statement.  “More I mean of Loki’s person.  He’s already been broken and unmade.  And if Frey would take off his spellwork, you all would understand more _fully_ why Loki not recognizing him was such a telling sign of his condition.”

“What’s he mean?”  Bruce asked, moving to stand like everyone else.  “What spell?”

“An old one.”  Frey finally answered, looking up from staring at the floor and folding his arms across his chest.  “Put in place _years_ ago.  You see…”  Frey trailed off, eyes running over Tony face in particular.  “When Loki was young, he wanted a family of his own.  He’d never quite _fit_ among the Asgardian royals.”  Thor made a low pained sound in his throat, Frey ignored him and continued.  “So with a little help, he _made_ his daughter Hela.”

“Hela?”  Banner frowned.  “Like the Norse goddess of the Dead, Hela?”

“Yggdrasil and of the Grave.”  Thor corrected absently.  “But close.”

“Around that same time.”  Frey carried on, waving a hand and illustrating the tale for them with his powers, as he’d once done for a hall full of magical children and teachers on Samhain.  “A seeress had a vision: if Loki had children, they would bring about Ragnarok.  Odin, already _peeved_ over Loki showing off his power and forming a fully-sentient being out of his own blood and power, banned Loki from every creating another life and sent Hela to have dominion over the dead as ruler of what is now known as Helheim.”

Tony gave a half-smile and nodded at Frey when their eyes met again.  He’d already known about the resemblance, and suspected the relationship.  This was just…filling in the gaps a bit.

“The edict stood unchallenged for nearly a thousand years, though many whispered of the cruel punishment the innocent Queen Hela had been subjected to, and bitterness grew in Loki’s heart.”  Frey continued.  “Then, in a universe under the control of another pantheon, Loki heard the prayer of one of his devout worshippers.  This man, a man of magic and mischief much like Loki himself, could not have children.  Worse, he was the last of his line and in the midst of a blood-war.  Together with his wife, a witch of renowned beauty and wit, they beseeched the gods – any gods – to bless them with an heir.”

“Let me guess.”  Thor chuckled, hearing the tale for the first time.  “Loki wasn’t the only one to answer.”

It explained much, after all.

Frey grinned, eyes dancing.  “Not at all.  The man’s line had an ancient patron after all, stretching back longer than Loki had been _alive_.  And when one of the last two wizarding decedents of Thanatos called for aid continuing his line, the Lord of Death answered.  Together, and with a bit of meddling from a few others, an agreement was struck.  The wizard and witch would have a son, a boy that would be powerful and strong.  Brave, and intelligent, and _just_.  The perfect mix of them all, but Loki being Loki, leaning towards _him_ the most.  After all, humans had such short life-spans.  What was the harm in making the boy more his than theirs?  He would grow and age as normal…until he didn’t.  And would be powerful enough to survive whatever punishment Odin might dream up for the innocent son and heir of Loki…if he survived to face it upon his Ascension.  James and Lily Potter wanted a son – what they got was a godling, a true-born heir to an unclaimed divine dominion.”

As he spoke, he slowly lowered the spell on all of them, leaving it in place in general.  Eyes shot wide as more than one took in the resemblance they could now clearly see.  In Tony’s ear, Jarvis chirped a warning over a match to Loki being found.  Fifty-seven percent in fact, and a few feet away from Jarvis’s creator.

“I know, Jarv.”  Tony reassured the AI.  “I’ve known for a while.”

“You’re Loki’s son.”  Steve said slowly, his artist’s eyes not needing any computer program to tell him this truth.  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We made the spell a long time ago – from our perspective – after seeing for ourselves how dangerous it would be to leave our features as-is.  Neither of us wanted to deny the other – but for both of our safeties it was a must.”  Frey explained.  “As it is, now that Asgard found out about me last year – thanks to this lummox.”  Frey jabbed one finger into Thor’s bicep.

“You lost your temper with Odin all on your own.”  Thor grumbled.  “”tis not my fault your control was readily stretched thin and you blasted away the spell in your temper.”

“Odin has made noises over trying and sentencing Loki for breaking the edict and siring me.”  Frey finished, ignoring the blond as he often did.  Honestly, with the way things stood, letting Thor get as close to him as he had was asking for trouble.  Now that he was known…he wouldn’t put it past Odin – or worse, Frigga – from trying to marry him off.  At least with Tony he didn’t have to risk a marriage contract to cement an alliance like he would if he let himself show any interest in Thor.  “Which I would wager why he wants him back in Asgard rather than letting him _finally_ come home to Jotunheim.  Anyway,” Frey gave a flamboyant bow.  “Frey Haraldr Lokison at your service.  Will you go with me, to Stark Tower,” Frey nodded at Tony.  “And save my father, and this world?”

Steve shared glances with the rest of them – none of them happy about either the deception _or_ the lack of surprise on Thor and Tony’s faces over Frey’s revelation – then said:

“You got your suit handy?”  He asked.

Frey smiled and snapped his fingers, all of them cleaned up and outfitted in an instant as Frey’s own armor and weapons wrapped around him.

Steve nodded, looking over at Natasha.

“You know how to fly one of those jets?”

“I do.”  Hawkeye said, one hand clenching around the bow that had appeared in his hand, the heavy weight of his quiver comforting on his back.

Steve gave Natasha a questioning glance, getting the slightest of nods in return.

“Then let’s go.  Tony – suit up.”

Tony leaned into Frey a moment as the rest filed out of the medbay.

“Am I not worthy of your magic, Green Eyes?”  He asked, looking up through his thick black lashes at the much-taller…Aesir?  Jotun?  Part-wizard (and wasn’t that a trip…).

“You are, more than.”  Frey leaned down, his lips brushing teasingly over the curve of Tony’s ear and then the sharp edge of his jaw, Tony’s blood heating at the first real _blatant_ move either of them had made.  “But this.”  Frey tapped one elegant finger on the circle of the reactor, Tony – oddly enough – not even flinching.  “I believe, blocks most magic from working on you.  You knew of my close appearance to that of my father, for instance.  A mighty boon.”  Frey brushed a breath of a kiss to the corner of Tony’s mouth, then leaned away before Tony could close that short distance and thoroughly distract them both from the fight at hand.  “It might just save your life…again.”

“You’ll be there?”  Tony had to ask.  “At the Tower.”

“I wouldn’t leave _anyone_ to fight my father alone, not while he’s in this state.”  Frey nodded.  “You keep one eye on the portal and don’t let him get too close.  I’ll take care of the rest.”

…

“So…” Fury drawled.  He _still_ couldn’t see it, but that didn’t stop him from _hearing_ what Frey had told the others – likely on purpose.  “He’s our bad-guy’s kid.  That explains _a lot_.”

“Director Fury.”  Hill stepped up to him.  “What should I do about Agent Coulson?”

“Let him heal, move him into the regular medbay.”  Fury told her, arching a brow.  “Secret’s out.  But still…they’ve come together, even if it’s over hating me and liking that irritating bastard Black.”

A beep went off in her earpiece.  “Sir.”  She told him, looking up out of worried eyes.  “The World Security Council is on the line.”

…

 


	7. Tear You Apart

** Truth Will Rise **

_"Without an opportunity, their abilities would have been wasted, and without their abilities, the opportunity would have arisen in vain."_

_Niccolò Machiavelli_

**Chapter Six: Tear You Apart**

Tony’s thrusters glitched and spluttered all through his zig-zagging flight through the New York skyline, his mind only half on the confrontation to come and his plan with Jarvis to keep him alive if Loki snaps before Frey can wrangle his dear-old-cracked-dad.

It was a mind-trip, Frey as Loki’s son.

Even knowing _something_ was going on there, _knowing_ was somehow different and strange.

Not that it made him think any differently about the luscious Green Eyes, or change his mind in any way about going after him once they came out the other end of all… _this_.

But still, having everyone else in on it, not having to keep Frey’s confidence anymore – even if Tony wasn’t still quite sure _why_ he had in the first place beyond the needs of Tony Stark’s cock occasionally trumping the wishes of Tony Stark’s mind…let along the common good, which was an entirely vague and far too nebulous thing for him to invest in it – made him feel like he’d _lost_ something.

Some sense of… _connection_ that Tony had felt far too few times in the past to easily want to give it up now.

He’d connected to Pepper, that was for sure, enough to almost ruin _both_ of their lives by chasing after her.

He didn’t want to make that same mistake with Frey Lokison…and _not_ just because he had a feeling that once they rebooted Loki, then Loki version 1.0 would tear Tony apart if he broke his kid’s heart.

How _protective_ Thor and Frey both were over compromised-Loki was more than enough data to back up that hypothesis.

Thor was another thing.

He didn’t treat Loki’s kid like Tony would _think_ Thor would treat Loki’s kid.

Thor called him brother, Loki did likewise, so even with – if he was understanding the backstory right – Frey being raised in a literal other universe (which was enough to get Tony’s science-senses tingling), you would think there would be a familial _something_ there.

But there wasn’t.

They were both familial towards _Loki_ now that Tony had enough data to decode what he’d been looking at, but _not_ towards each other.

If anything they were like battle-buddies, kinda Clint-and-Nat-ish, or even Tony and Happy than adoptive-uncle-and-nephew.

It was _off_ and Tony hated when his equations didn’t compute.

“Sir, I’ve deactivated the Arc Reactor.”  Jarvis’s mellow tones sounded in Tony’s ear as he came into a vertical hover to study the portal device Dr. Selvig had set up on his roof.  “However, the device is already self-sustaining.”

“Shut it down, Dr. Selvig.”  Tony ordered the astrophysicist, voice strong and nearly-mechanic thanks to the suit’s speakers.

Erik looked up from his rapt study of the spinning/glowing/pulsing blue cube.

“I can’t do that!”  He called up to Ironman.  “I can’t stop it now!  She wants to show us something!”  He gasped, eyes bright Tesseract blue.  “A new universe.”

“Okay.”  Tony remained calm in the face of the crazy, lifting both hand repulsers and sending off a blast at the rotating cube.

A blast that blew back at him, as it bounced off of whatever shielding Selvig – or for the love of nuclear physics, maybe even the Tesseract itself – had dreamed up to protect it.  Selvig was blown off his feet, Tony blown back into an aerial summersault before stabilizing.  Jarvis gave him an update on the readings the AI had taken while Tony hovered near the device.

“The barrier is pure energy.”  The AI told his maker, the thinnest tone of regret for bearing bad news in his voice.  “It’s unbreachable.”

“Yeah, I got that.”  Tony agreed, turning his helmeted head a hair to stare down at the form of Loki watching him from the balcony off of _Tony’s_ penthouse rumpus room.  “Plan B.”

“Sir the Mark VII is not ready for deployment.”  Jarvis protested, even as Tony came down for a landing and the AI powered up the gear-down station, stripping off the dented and nearly-scrapped armor piece by piece.

“Then skip the spinning rims, Jarvis, we’re on a clock.”  Tony ordered.

Loki watched as the Ironman landed and geared-down, the two keeping perfect pace with each other as they traversed the length of the balcony, coming into the rumpus room in a perfect draw from opposite ends of the penthouse.

“Please tell me you’re going to appeal to my humanity.”  Loki smirked, one hand tight around the scepter.

Tony laughed a bit, already behind the bar and pouring a drink, his clever hands snapping the linked bracelets for the Mark VII onto his wrists, finding them right where he’d left them and Jarvis had confirmed they were.

“Ah, actually I’m planning to threaten you.”  Tony told him with his trademark blunt honesty.

Loki laughed along obligingly.  “You should have left your armor on for that,” he pointed out.

“Meh.”  Tony said.  “It’s seen a bit of mileage and you’ve got,” he waved an airy hand at the scepter.  “The Glowstick of Destiny.  Would you like a drink?”

Say what he would about the man – and Barton had had plenty to say – but he did know how to treat a guest, even an unwelcome one.  Loki shook his head, chuckling lowly.

“Stalling me won’t change anything.”

“No, no, no.”  Tony corrected, finding _just_ the right bottle of bourbon.  “Threatening.  No drink, you sure?  I’m having one.”

Seeing such blithe confidence in a creature other than himself was deeply unsettling.

Was this how the sheep-like, bumbling Aesir warriors always felt around him?

If so, Sif’s constant ill-temper finally made some sort of sense after the sweet girl became a warrior rather than a court-lady or healer.

“The Chitauri are coming.”  Loki said, pacing over to stare out the window at the city of glass and stone and shining – and not so shining – metal.  “Nothing will change that, what have I to fear?”

“The Avengers,” Tony told him, then extrapolated at the uncomprehending look he got from Loki.  “It’s what we call ourselves, we’re sorta like a team, Earth’s mightiest heroes kinda thing.”

Loki smiled smugly.  “Yes, I’ve met them.”

“Yeah.”  Tony made an unimpressed sound.  “Takes us a while to get any traction, I’ll give you that one.  But.”  He paused, as if to think.  “Let’s do a head-count here.  Your brother – the demigod or full-god, I’m still a little shaky, and you know, _atheist_ to wrap my head around that one.”

As always, mention of Thor worked like a charm, Loki turning and pacing back toward the windows.

“The super-solider.”  Tony continued, wanting nothing more than to get to the last name…and see what Loki made of it.  “Living legend, who kinda lives up to the legend.  A man with _breath-_ taking anger management issues.  A couple of master assassins, and _you_ cupcake have managed to piss off every single one of them.”

“That was the plan.”  Loki smirked.  “Though I still don’t hear of Fury’s pet magician, is he still, what was the term, _AWOL_?”

“I was getting there.”  Tony told him.  “Not a great plan, by the way.  There’s me, genius, inventor, billionaire, playboy, Ironman.  And last but not least…”  Tony drawled, waiting until Loki got closer.  “There’s your kid, Frey.”

Green eyes shot wide – the blue faded – and Tony was almost able to _see_ the real Loki screaming behind the mask.

Then it was back, that fucking Tesseract-blue glow.

“You know him, Frey Lokison, another demi-god/full-god/magical being/person/thing.”  Tony said airily, then laughed.  “That’s right, big fella.  And _you_ don’t remember him.  Still think the Glowstick of Destiny is worth whatever your ally is paying?  When they come – and they will – they’re all coming for _you_.  Even Frey.  Or maybe I should say _especially_ Frey.”

“I have an army.”

“We have a Hulk.”  Tony shot back.

“Oh?”  Loki drawled.  “I’d thought the beast had wandered off.”

“You’re missing the point.”  Tony said, striding closer, catching a hint of darkening shadows out of the corner of his eye.  He needed to draw Loki closer to the walls and out of the open – and bright – space.  “There’s no throne.”  He moved in a diagonal, coming up to prop a shoulder in a doorway, Loki following at a prowl.  “There’s no version of this where you come out on top.  _Maybe_ your army comes, and _maybe_ it’s too much for us…but it’s all on you.”  Tony stopped a moment, gathering his thoughts, then finished.  “Because if we can’t defend the Earth, you can be damn sure we’re going to Avenge it.”

“How will your friends have time for me?”  Loki asked, rage filling his voice.  “When they’ll be busy fighting _you_?”

He raised the spear, lowering the tip to the Arc Reactor, only to find his arm caught in a vise-like grasp.

“Not this one, Far.”  Frey said, even knowing that Loki didn’t know him yet.  “He’s not for you.”

“Ah, my would-be son.”  Loki said, even as he eyed the grip on his arm.  This one…he didn’t believe it was his child, but it _knew_ him well enough to know how to handle him _was_ to handle him.  That was concerning.  “And here I thought you’d wandered off like your pet beast.”

Tony ran over to the window as the building shook.

“Sir.”  A voice sounded through the penthouse, with crisp British tones.  “A portal has been opened over the Tower.”

“It’s too late now.”  Loki said, half-weary and half-ecstatic.  “They’re coming.”

“No.”  Frey corrected him as Tony called for Jarvis to deploy the Mark VII, rushing to meet the oncoming tide and flying from the rumpus room, trusting Frey to wrangle his father if anyone could.  “It’s just in time.”

Frey let his eyelids flutter closed, finding the trigger he’d wound into and through the _real_ scepter, and with a _snap_ that was audible, severed it’s connection to all it’s victims, save a handful that after a look into their minds through the Stone had been deemed too dangerous to let run wild, in those cases shifting control from Loki – and the now-raging madman that had been controlling him – to Frey.

Loki crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut – appropriate, since in many ways that was exactly what he was, and Frey tossed the cloned scepter aside, catching his father and lowering him carefully to the floor.

“Mr. Stark wishes me to ascertain if you need any assistance, Mr. Lokison.”  Jarvis relayed as Frey set to healing as much of the mental damage to his father that he could.

It wasn’t all of it, not by a long shot.

Frey was many things, had been many things, and studied many area – magical and other wise – over the years, but he was still no healer.

His father would need real help – Eir or preferably the _invidja_ of their homeland – to truly heal.

But Frey should be able to do enough to help Loki _begin_ taking his revenge on those who had wrong him so vastly.

“Shh, Far, shh.”  Frey murmured as Loki began to thrash, the hidden parts of himself starting to rejoin the fragmented whole.  “Just let it wash over you.  I’m here now…nothing will harm you.”

…

“Mr. Lokison seems to have Prince Laufeybarn well in hand, sir.”  Jarvis reported back, observing the scene as Tony flew into battle over quieter-than-normal New York streets, pondering a moment on whether or not that should also be a _Prince_ Lokison.  “Also, there seems to have been some sort of construction accident that has blocked off traffic for almost half a mile surrounding Stark Tower.”

Tony snerked.  “I’d be willing to bet that _accident_ as the name Frey Lokison written all over it.  He wasn’t surprised at _all_ when I realized where Loki was heading.”

“I would not doubt as such, sir.”  Jarvis said.  “He seemed very certain of his ability to track Prince Laufeyson, and sent out a great many encoded messages while he was one the helicarrier.  To my regret, while I did manage to decrypt them, they were written in a runic language I have never seen before.”

“Not surprised.”  Tony said, as he lit up another flying…chariot? Thing?  “Ah.”  He smiled, seeing the quinjet.  “Here comes the cavalry.”

…

Thor touched down on the balcony of the Tower, rushing inside to where he saw Frey holding a seizing Loki.

“What is it?”

“His mind was fractured, at least partially by his own doing – likely to protect me given that anything to do with me, or that my life effected was altered.”  Frey explained, not even looking up when another – much smaller – portal opened in the rumpus room and a trio of forms stepped out, two forms very familiar even if the last was known to him only by reputation.  “Uncles, Prince Silverlance.”  He nodded, taking his eyes off of Loki’s cherished face for a split second before turning back to his work.  “I would rise but I’m a bit _busy_.”

Prince Nuada Silverlance, the exiled Crown Prince of Alfheim, nodded regally.

He had no love for humans, but the risk these Chitauri posed – let alone their master if it was able to suborn Loki Silver-Tongue – to the wilds of Earth was considerable.

Besides which, having one of the royal _invidja_ of Jotunheim in your debt was never a bad thing.

Jormangandr Helajarbarn and Fenrir Helajarbarn both nodded from the great height of their Jotnar forms.

“Jarvis?”  Frey called out.  “If you would be so kind as to inform the Avengers of their presence, my Uncles Jor and Fen are the blue giants – Jotnar – and the tall blond with the lance is Prince Nuada.  They are here to help.  Thor, perhaps a lift for the Prince, Uncles I am _sure_ you can manage to find your way into trouble without an escort.”

…

“Sirs and ma’am.”  Jarvis cut into the Avengers audio as the quinjet touched down after taking a blast that blew out a rotor from one of the flying chariots.  “There are three new friendlies on the field.  A Prince Nuada wearing all black with a red sash and fighting with a lance, and a pair of Jotnar who are blue.”

“Blue?”  Steve muttered then blinked as two massive forms – taller than the Hulk but not as bulky – _jumped_ from the balcony of Stark Tower with whooping cries even a regular civvie could hear, ice shooting from their hands and rushing from the ground as they made ice slides, like one teenaged mutant SHIELD kept tabs on, engaging an enemy or enemies with nothing but their massive bodies and quickly-forming ice weapons.  “Okay then.  Blue.  We gotta get back up there.”  Steve called to Nat and Clint, as Thor touched down with who must be this Prince Nuada, all stopping a moment in shock as a flying… _whale_ , came through the steady portal.

Chitauri launched from the transport-whale’s underside, Steve calling out: “Stark, you seeing this?”

Natasha handed off an ear-piece to Nuada, who grimaced but took it at a nudge from Thor.

“Seeing, still working on believing.”  Tony reported back.  “Jarvis, find me a soft spot.”  He ordered as Banner shifted into the Hulk, flying through the air and smashing and jumping from glider to troop-carrier to glider.

They fought their way up the streets towards the Tower, Steve, Nat, and Clint reconvening even as Nuada tore through a squad of Chitauri like a scythe through wheat, Thor roaring and laughing from the joy of battle as he flew high in the air, blasting them down with strikes either from the storm or his hammer, never even touching ground.

“Despite the streets being pretty dead.”  Clint reported.  “We’ve got civilians trapped in the buildings and the Chitauri and gunning for them.”

Two streaks of blue whooped their way past the trio, freezing a troop carrier in mid-air and sending it plummeting to the ground.

Steve looked over the side of the raised walkway to where a group of civilians were trapped by the Chitauri.

“Like fish in a barrel down there.”

Several Chitauri landed on a car nearby, Natasha pushing him towards the civvies saying: “We got this.  Go.”

“You think you can hold them off?”  He asked Hawkeye.

“Captain.”  Clint smiled, already selecting the right arrowhead.  “It would be my _genuine_ pleasure.”

…

“Just like Budapest all over again.”  Natasha called out to Clint after he got done helping some civilians escape from a bus.

Clint glanced at the crazy redhead.

“You and I remember Budapest _very_ differently.”

…

In the Tower penthouse, Frey was deep within his father’s mind.

Searching, searching, for that thing that had been _lost_ these last days.

For what made Loki, _Loki_.

That bright spark of mischief and chaos and a love of magic.

The desire to do what was _just_ for his people, to see the Jotnar retake their proper place amongst the Nine Realms.

And above all, the unrelenting _love_ he had for his two children, his grandsons, and all his family.

Even, though it killed Frey to admit it, for Odin.

“Far.”  He whispered, sending his voice far and wide through the cobbled-together pieces of Loki’s mind.  “Far, it’s Frey.”

“Frey…?”  Loki’s voice – mental and physical – sounded.  “Frey…I know that name.”

“Far, it’s your son.  Your son, Frey.”

“Frey…yes, Frey.  I know that voice.”

“It’s time to wake up, Far.”  Frey firmed his resolve.  “You _have_ to wake up now.  The Stone is gone.  It can’t control you anymore.  Wake up, Far.  Wake up.”

…

Down on the street, a young policeman ran up to his sergeant as a squad of officers shot up at the flying… _aliens?_

“It’ll be an hour before they can scramble the National Guard.”  He reported, panting for breath as his sergeant shot at another glider overhead.

“An hour?”  He asked, incredulous.  “Does the army know what’s going on here?”

“Do we?”

Steve leapt over a final car, crouching in the Stars-and-Bars, cowl covering his face.

“We need men in these buildings.”  Steve pointed with two fingers towards the skyscrapers, rattling off orders.  “There’s people in there and they’re going to be running right into the line of fire.  You take them to the basements or the subway, you keep them _off_ the streets.”

The sergeant looks at his surrounding officers in dazed confusion at the weirdo in a leotard giving them orders.

“I need a perimeter as far back as 39th.”

“Why the hell should I take orders from you?”  The sergeant asked.

And got his answer in the form of watching Captain America beat down a trio of Chitauri, Steve just staring at him a moment, iconic shield in hand, then the sergeant was spinning and rattling off those same orders to his men and through the mic on his shoulder.

…

Loki was in a deep, dark place in his mind.

He couldn’t quite remember what he was doing there, or why.

All he knew, was that before there had been pain, and worse, danger.

Not to him, no.

Loki could withstand pain, and he wasn’t afraid of danger.

But the creature that had captured him – worse, the one it worked for – would do _anything_ to Loki, anything at all, if it meant capturing a being with the powers of his son.

And _that_ was the one thing he couldn’t allow.

So he shoved it all down, _bending_ his mind to keep anything that could lead to Frey safe.

His scent.

His voice.

Even his name.

In the process, he _twisted_ himself, he knew that.

Became more the maddened beast lashing out than ever he’d wanted to be.

Still…

Loki thought it a fair trade, even as he writhed from the pain of the Other’s experiments and the Mad Titan’s tortures.

Frey was _safe_.

Then the orders came, and Loki had to peak out from the wreckage of his own mind – just a bit.

Just enough to give the facsimile that was wearing his face the idea to _spite_ the hand that held the lash – and leash.

To work things _just_ enough to draw attention.

To draw in Frey.

If there was _anyone_ he trusted to stop the thing that he’d become – to free him from the ruins of himself – it was his son.

His work was rewarded, even as he stepped through the portal and the Stone’s influence sank hooks into the shallow creature that wore his face.

He _knew_ that magic!

Frey was near!

But it wasn’t enough.

Frey was being careful, and the Mind Stone’s hold on Loki’s outer shell too strong to break without help since he let himself be compromised in this way.

Again, Loki had patience, even as the moment of clarity became fewer and shorter.

This time, it was his patience that was rewarded, even as his other self paraded about and made a mess of an invasion – putting on a real _show_ of it, without planning to win at all.

His little prince was back, but with comrades that while not as great or mighty or _anything_ really as Loki’s Frey, that were still great in their own rights, even as they were broken and squabbling, trying to rush through the early stages of forming battle-bonds.

Well.

Loki could certainly help them there.

A wink here, a nudge there, and there was his Frey, strong and determined, holding his arm and laying claim to one of Earth’s mightiest heroes…though perhaps this Man of Iron didn’t quite know that…yet.

But then Frey _tugged_ at something deep within Loki, and what had been an orderly wreckage, _snapped_ and became as veritable tornado of Chaos.

Finally, the storm calmed, and through the neatened piles of jumbled refuse and memories – and wouldn’t _that_ take an age to sort out – strode his beautiful son, as glorious as a daydream in Loki’s scarred but whole once more mindscape.

“Come.”  Frey held out one hand.  “It’s time to come home, Far.  It’s time to wake up.”

“As you wish.”  Loki smiled, grabbing his little prince up in a fierce embrace and then closing his eyes, allowing himself to rise fully to the surface for the first time since the Other took him.  Bright green eyes snapped open, staring up into their twin’s in a beloved face.  “My darling boy…”  He smiled, then arched a sardonic brow.  “A scruffy inventor, really?”

Frey just tossed his head and laughed, a catharsis of years – including his bit of a walkabout in another universe to cool off lest he go start a fight with Odin – pouring out in great gasping breaths and loud guffaws as the two of them held each other close, Loki’s clothes melting away into his kingly armor that was Frigga’s design for his short regency as King in the fashion of a dragon rather than his prince’s armor with its gaudy horns.

Climbing to their feet, Frey held Loki close in a fierce embracing echo of that in Loki’s mind.

“There’s a battle outside.”  Frey finally said after several long moments.  “Care to take some revenge?”

“On the Chitauri?”  Loki winged up a black brow.  “They are mindless beasts obeying the whims of the Other.”

“Show me.”  Frey said simply, locking gazes with his Far, Loki pushing the vision of the Other’s floating rock headquarters into his son’s mind.  “You stay here – it will do them some good watching you _really_ fight.  I have a score to settle.”

“Take care, my son.”  Loki warned him.  “The Other answers to the Mad Titan.”

“Hmm.”  Frey hummed, rocking a bit on his toes.  “That explains the impressions I got through the Stone.  But if my breaking the connections to all of _you_ hurt, I imagine the Mad Titan is still knocked out, having directed most of the backlash at _him_ that I could.  It’s worth the risk.”

“Then go.”  Loki said, turning towards the windows with one last embrace for his son.  “Fight well.”

“I’m not going to fight.”  Frey slashed a vicious smile, eyes lighting with unleashed rage.  “I’m going to tear him apart.”

…

“It appears.”  Nuada drawled over the distasteful human device.  “That Prince Frey’s methods have worked.  King Loki has entered the battle.”

“For us, are you sure?”  Steve called back, looked up as a golden figure echoed the Jotnar’s earlier leap from the penthouse – only Loki timed his so that he hit a glider dead-on, sending the pilot plummeting to the ground far below.

“I am.”  Nuada spun and disposed of another piece of Chitauri filth.  “ _That_ is an Aesir King in full battle regalia.  Not some mummer’s version of a petty princeling.  It’s Loki.”

“Roger that.”

…

The Avengers reconvened, only Tony staying in the air, as their allies scattered through the city dealing seemingly impossible levels of damage to the Chitauri.

“What’s the story upstairs?”  Steve asked Thor.

“The barrier around the cube is impenetrable.”  The blond part-Aesir answered.

“He’s right.”  Tony confirmed.  “Plus, we gotta deal with these guys, even if we, the giant smurfs, Sir Lance-a-lot, and Real Power are doing a damn good job at taking them out, more just keep coming.”

“How do we do this?”  Clint asked.

“As a team.”  Steve answered.  “We got Stark up top, he’s going to lead us…”  Steve cut off as the Hulk touched back down and transformed into Banner, who somehow wasn’t as knocked-out as he usually was after a transformation. 

“Well, this all seems horrible.”  Bruce commented.

“I’ve seen worse.”  Natasha pointed out with an arch of her brow at the scientist, who shrugged and said: “Sorry.”

“No, don’t.”  Natasha corrected him, not wanting him to think she was taking a shot at him.  “That’s a good thing.  I think we could use a little more _worse_.”

“Stark, Banner’s back on the ground.”

“Tell him to suit back up.”  Tony said.  “I’m bringing the party to you.”

Ironman came into sight trailing one of the massive whale-transports, Natasha saying:

“I-I don’t see how that’s a party.”

Thor just grinned and spun Mjolnir.

Bruce sighed a bit and started walking towards the crashing whale-thing.

“Doctor Banner.”  Steve said.  “Now might be a good time to get angry.”

“That’s the secret, Captain.”  Bruce told him.  “I’m always angry.”

And as easy as taking his next breath, Bruce Banner became the Hulk again, smashing his way through a now-dead troop transport, the others just watching, and then the Hulk ambled its way back towards the group.

…

The Chitauri roared down at them, and the Other called out in another place entirely: “Send the rest.”

…

“Guys.”  Natasha called their attention to the reinforcements.

“Call it, Captain.”  Tony said.

Steve stepped forward.

“Alright, listen up.  Until we can close that portal our priority is containment.”  He decided.  “Barton: I want you on that roof.”  He pointed to one of the taller buildings in the kill zone.  “Eyes on everything, call out patterns and strays.”

Clint nodded.

“Stark?  You’ve got the perimeter.  Anything gets more than three blocks out you turn it back or you turn it to ash.”

“Wanna gimme a lift?”  Clint asked Tony.

“Right.”  Tony nodded, flying over to Hawkeye.  “Better clench up, Legolas.”  And took off, dropping Clint lightly on the right rooftop.

“Thor.”  Steve turned towards the Thunderer.  “You’ve gotta try and bottle-neck that portal, slow them down.  You’ve got the lightning, light the bastards up.”

Thor smiled grimly and whirled Mjolnir, flying off towards the portal.

“You and me.”  He told Natasha, not bothering to hand out orders to the aliens who would probably ignore him anyway if Prince Nuada was any indicator.  “We stay here on the ground, keep the fighting here.  And Hulk?”

The massive green being turned cunning eyes on the Captain.

“Smash.”

…

Thor leapt, landing on top of a glass-and-steel building, holding tight as he used Mjolnir and the massive conductor he was clinging to, to channel the storm.  Power built and built, and then with a roar he unleashed it, as the good Captain had said, to light up the portal.  A transport-whale took a hit dead-on with a massive shriek, and any unwary glider that got in the way of the strike burst apart.

He let it go, the lightning flashing all around and seeming to _leap_ from Chitauri to Chitauri, Thor arching a golden brow at that.

“Captain.”  He reported back.  “They react usually to my lightning for an organic lifeform.  They may be some sort of cybernetic-enhanced species.”

“By my stars and garters.”  Tony gasped, eyes wide as he laid out another line of Chitauri that were straying from the main battle.  Hank was one of his favorite scientists…and a running cautionary tale over experimenting on _yourself,_ that Tony was more than happy to ignore.  “There _is_ a brain under all that hair!”  He snickered a moment.

“My brother is right.”  The smooth, velvet-kissed tones of Loki came over the comms as the sorcerer spoke up for the first time since his son handed him an ear-piece.  “When they held me it became readily apparent that this was so.  If you can destroy their transports the Chitauri they carry won’t be functional.”

“Well.”  Steve said into the long moment of silence as the _reality_ of having Loki on their side actually hit home for the Avengers.  “You heard the Jotun.  Aim for the transports.”

“Stark.”  Barton called out on the heels of Steve’s order, letting others focus on the big-ass transports.  “You’ve got a lot of strays aiming for your tail.”

“Just trying to keep them off the streets.”  Tony said as his HUD showed him more than a dozen of the gliders trying to get within firing range.

“Well.”  Barton observed, not even looking as he shot at and took out another glider.  “They can’t bank worth a damn.  Find a tight corner.”

“I will, roger that.”

“Loki!”  Thor cried out joyous, as the Jotun – wearing his Aesir skin and full King’s armor, smoothly drew the glider he’d claimed to a stop beside his adopted brother.  “We shall defeat them together!”

Loki smiled over at the buffoon, the false feelings of great rage shoved away with his son’s working…though it yet lingered in the back of his mind.

“Aye, brother!”  He called out, clapping his hands and several Loki-clones appearing, each on the back of a glider that they then… _appropriated_.  “Shall we even the odds?”

Thor laughed, and held up Mjolnir once more summoning the storm as Loki held out his favorite spear – summoned from his rooms on Asgard – and joined him, an ominous green and gold glow gathering and rushing all along the length of the staff, and then the brothers were blasting at the portal, knocking a trio of transports from the sky with the combined strength of their might.

“Okay, note to self Jarv.”  Tony commented as he whipped around a tight corner and sent his tails crashing into a building, looking up just in time to see the light show – as did most of their team.  “Don’t piss off – too much – the Asgardian Wonder Twins.”

“Yes, sir.  I will remind you.”

“Excellent, Jarv.  Any sign of my favorite Green Eyes?”

“No, sir.”  Jarvis reported dutifully.  “From his words to his father, it seems Mr. Lokison has left this field of battle for another, sir.  His target I believe Prince Laufeybarn called The Other.”

“Ah.”  Tony hit another Chitauri with a repulser blast to the back of his neck, watching as the lights on the weird organic/mechanical armor winked out and the thing crumpled.  “Good to know…”

…

Natasha blasted away another Chitauri with it’s own energy rifle, sitting – for just a moment – panting on the hood of a cab, blood covering her face in bright streaks and dribbles of red.

A sound to her right had her whirling, energy rifle ready, only to lower it at the sight of Rogers.

“You know, Captain.”  She told him, panting just a bit.  “All of this isn’t going to mean anything if we can’t close that portal.”

“Our biggest guns didn’t even touch it.”  Steve pointed out, Loki and Thor having divided once more to continue bottle necking the transports as they came in.

“Maybe it’s not about guns.”  Natasha said, staring up at the beam of power coming from the roof of Stark Tower.

“You wanna get up there you’ll need a ride.”  Steve said.  “You want me to call down one of the flyers?”

Natasha just gave him a dead-pan look.  “I’ve got my own ride.”  She said as a squad of Chitauri dropped a dozen yards away from them, moving in on the pair.  “I could use a boost, though.”  She tossed over her shoulder.

Steve, catching her plan within moments, moved back and held his shield in front of him.

“You sure about this?”

“Yeah.”  Natasha said, not completely convincing, even to herself.  “It’s gonna be fun.”

A run, a jump, and a heave from Steve’s shield, and the Black Widow was springing up and latching onto the back of a Chitauri glider as it zoomed over Captain America’s head.

…

Steve and Tony took out a squad of Chitauri, Tony flying up to take out some climbing the building to get to Clint, Clint took out a glider with one arrow, and Thor and the Hulk worked together to take out a transport…then the Hulk side-punched Thor into a wall, and through it all three Jotnar and an Elven Prince wiped the floor with any creature dumb enough to engage them, and still the army poured through the portal above Stark Tower.

…

On the top of Stark Tower, where Erik Selvig had hit the ground – and his head – _hard_ in the back-lash of Tony’s earlier repulser blast to the barrier surrounding the Tesseract, the scientist woke up, eyes clear, and stared out in horror and shock at the scene of terror and chaos that surrounded him.

And below him, the National Guard at last arrived.

…

_Elsewhere:_

“Are you _sure_ you want to do that?”  Frey asked idly, stepping out of the shadows of the Other’s rock-like ship onto what he thought was an observation deck.  “Your army don’t seem to be making much headway.”

The Other snarled, whirling on what _looked_ far-too-similar a being to his tool that had been ripped from his master’s grasp, Thanos’s roar of enraged pain still lingering in the Other’s mind long after the backlash had blacked-out his master’s mind.

A quick scan noted that it _wasn’t_ his tool, but instead the being that had been causing… _glitches_ in his master’s control of the tool.

An enraged and maddened Asgardian Prince…it had seemed a boon from Death herself when the Other’s Chitauri had found Loki Laufeyson on an abandoned rock.

Though, with the _cost_ of the strike to take the Tesseract, perhaps it had been a trap from Lord Chaos himself.

Another scan noted that the being was only _part_ Jotnar, and not Aesir at all, despite the runes etched with inks into the skin, the being having appeared in no more armor than a simple pair of hide pants, a large sword glowing with power in its hand.

“We will prevail.”  The Other snapped, ordering all of his Chitauri to line up near the too-small portal – _damnation_ upon all clever tools! – and locking the order to send them through.

Even if he fell to this _creature_ his master would prevail!

“The Tesseract will be ours!”

“Hmm.  No.”  Frey shook his head, his warrior’s braids clicking and clacking with jewels and tokens from his Jotnar family and his children, even a gift or two from his travels, at the motion.  “Are you truly so foolish?”  He asked in blithe curiosity.  “Your game was over before it ever began.  Your hold on Loki was _weak_ , and your _master_ a fool if they thought that an _invidja_ of the Royal House of Ymir could be suborned and subdued so easily.”

The Other hissed, incoherent with rage at the utter _gall_ of this creature to insult that great Thanos!

“Did you think yourself so clever, your hideaway so hidden, that you could escape our grasp?”  Frey asked, with genuine puzzlement.  “There are none so fierce in their defense of _family_ , nor whose retribution is so devastating than that of the Blood of Ymir.  Even the most grasping of the Universe Cosmic know this to be true and stay far away from the Yggdrasil.”

“Odin Spear-Shaker goes _weak_.”  The Other hissed, thinking, erroneously, that Frey spoke of the reigning Aesir monarch and not Laufey-King, “forgets, in his age, the might of Lord Thanos.  Asgard _will_ fall, and your puny home world after it!”

“Perhaps, if that is how the Wheel turns.”  Frey commented without flinching.  “But I know _one_ thing to be true.  Even if the Mad Titan breaks his chains and makes it to the Yggdrasil… _you_ foul creature will _not_ be there to see it!”

And with that he sprang, fire springing out and caging in the two enemies in living flame, Fiendfyre controlled by Frey dancing high – and consuming everything it it’s path, scourging the rock clean of everything, including whatever _samples_ or notes the Other had made on Loki Laufeyson.

The Other, while a researcher and tinkerer and torturer, was not without strength of his own, meeting the first mighty slash of Frey’s glowing sword with a double-handed thrust of his staff, the two meeting with a raucous _clang_ above even the roar of the flames surrounding them in a burning facsimile of the hells – or Muspelheim.

But the Other was no warrior _either_ , and quickly found himself pressed at all sides by the well-trained and skilled part-Jotun.

Magefire gleamed with fire and flame – its own and the reflection of the enchanted dark fire surrounding them – as it darted here and there, a cut slashing across a leg and then an arm, and then there were a dozen slashes and then two dozen, each robbing the Other a little more of his alien strength and life-blood, weakening him in a slow drain and wicked lethargy.

“Fool!”  The Other roared.  “There is _no_ defeating Thanos!”

“Perhaps.”  Frey said, voice as frozen as the southern tundra of his family’s home.  “But Thanos _isn’t here_ , now is he?  Nor was _he_ the one who tortured my father, so no.  That was all _you_ Other.”

“Then finish it!”  The Other demanded, as another inch-long slash – this time to his ankle – had him stumbling and falling to one knee.  “Take your revenge.”

Frey chuckled, eyes flashing with the green fire of the Killing Curse, his Fiendfyre dying out with nothing else to consume of the Other’s lair and him holding it back from taking them both.

“Oh my _dear_ Other.”  Frey crooned, Magefire flashing and slashing another trio of cuts – this time onto the Other’s grotesque face.  “Haven’t you heard?  Revenge is a dish best served _cold_.”

Under Frey’s bare feet, ice spread out, hissing from the heated rock of the Fiendfyre, fog rising thick and fast from the vapor but not stopping the infamous weapon of the Jotnar from creeping up the Other, taking first his legs at foot and knee, then climbing up to both thigh and staff, freezing his hand in place, then it was over his shoulders and down both arms, and then it reached the neck and stopped dead.

“You,” the Other seethed, forcing out the words around the freezing cold.  “What _are_ you?”

“Me?”  Frey arched a brow.  “I’m Frey Lokison, the Titan-Slayer.  And thanks to _you_ , I’ve just found my next Titan to add to my _collection_.”

Ice rose up and covered the Other’s mouth, silencing him as Frey lifted his sword and held it even to the side of his neck, the enchanted ice leaving his path clear.

“I, Frey Lokison, Avatar of Chaos, God of Darkness and Shadow, offer up this blood sacrifice as tribute to my father, Loki Laufeybarn, Avatar of Magic, God of Mischief and Chaos.”  Burning green eyes stared down at a raging – and… _relieved?_ – Other.  “So mote it be.”

Magefire whistled through the air, and _power_ leapt from the body into the _ether_ racing through the portal to find its new host, Frey directing it with a thought to heal what he could not.

Bending over, he shattered the ice with an empowered _word_ , and picked up the Other’s head in a now-gloved hand, his armor summoned and wrapping back around him.

After all…he still had a battle to win.

An absent thought had the remains of the _Other_ going up in flames, and Frey stepped back through shadows and into the New York sky.

…

 _New York_ :

“Director Fury, the Council _has_ made a decision.”  One of the female councilmember stated emphatically.

Fury, hands on his hips, answered.

“I _recognize_ that the Council has made a decision.”  He stated slowly, as if talking to a group of small children.  Or, you know, Tony Stark.  “But given that it’s a stupid-ass decision I’ve elected to ignore it.”

“Director.”  Pierce said firmly.  “You’re closer than any of our subs.  You scramble that jet…”

“That,” Fury interrupted.  “Is the island of Manhattan, Councilman.”  Fury glared down at the screens around him, Hill looking on in shocked disbelief at the call the council had made.  “Until I’m certain my team can’t hold it, I will _not_ order a nuclear strike against a civilian population.”

“If we _don’t_ hold them here, we lose _everything_.”  Pierce shot back.

“If I send that bird out we already have.”  Done with their bullshit, Fury cut off the call, turning away from the screens.

…

“Brother?”  Thor half-shouted in concern as Loki lit up like a bonfire, though it seemed a benign light, and from within.

The _invidja_ had stopped dead in his tracks, eyes shooting wide, in the middle of another tag-team maneuver.

Thor had managed to take out their targets with help from Prince Nuada who had fought his way to Loki’s side and stayed there, taking up position on the back of Loki’s glider until they made ground-fall and took the fight back to the streets.

But neither of them had seen anything to cause Loki’s current… _situation_.

Black-gold-purple-green light finally rose from within Loki, wrapping first around his mind and then spiraling around his body, the Jotun giving out a joyous laugh when it finally released him.

“And what, pray tell?”  Nuada asked, leaning on his spear as chaos spun all around them.  Which explained why Loki was in such fine form…for the most part…as as a Chaos deity, Loki was probably _feeding_ on the damned whirlwind of shouts and blood and confusion, much as Thor was strengthened with each blow both given and taken as a war-god.  “Was that?”

Loki blessed them both with a beatific smile, spinning his spear so fast in hand that it was little more than a blur even to their eyes.

“My son.”  Loki said, unable to keep the grin off his face as he spun and launched his spear so far and fast that it skewered a trio of Chitauri before a twist of Loki’s wrist and power ripped it back out and recalled it to his hand.  “Has offered up once more his latest tribute.”

Thor groaned dramatically, then echoed Loki’s display with one of his own from Mjolnir…only pouting _a little_ when he took out two to Loki’s three.

Nuada nodded, spinning out as the three of them forming a dagger’s edge, cutting through the Chitauri surrounding them in a swathe of destruction.

“Shall the Prince be making an appearance anytime soon?”  Nuada asked idly, as if sitting down for tea with Queen Frigga instead of knee-deep in blood and viscera with her two adopted sons.

A loud cry and massive crack of power was his answer, as the three looked up to the sky where a massive tear still poured transport after glider – though in a much more erratic fashion – spotting the hovering-in-mid-air form dressed in black and green, shockwaves of power roiling off of him as pulses poured out, tearing apart any Chitauri that touched it.

“Why, Prince Nuada.”  Frey vanished from the air, only to reappear at his father’s side with a manic grin.  “I’m already here.”  With that, Frey tossed what he’d held in one hand down at his father’s feet.  “A gift, father.”

Loki sneered down at the decapitated head of the Other, then looked up and gave his son a firm, pleased nod, even as his eyes narrowed on the trace and streaks of blood on his son’s face not hidden by his armor.

Frey’s blood.

Not a given-victory then, which explained why the tribute was so powerful in addition from coming from another deity…oh yes, he’d noticed his son’s… _upgrade_.

How could he _not?_

One would have to be utterly magic-blind to not _sense_ the power that danced around his son.

So much, he had missed.

Still, that was the beauty of immortality – he had _eons_ to make up his absence during such an important time to his son, whether that absence was his own doing or that of another was immaterial.

“Will they not falter, now?”  Thor asked, gasping that it was the head of Loki’s tormentor that Frey had presented by the pleased-vicious-glee in his brother’s eyes.

“No.”  Loki told them.  “The Other had already given them their orders, and they will follow them.  The only way to stop it is to shut the portal – cutting them off from their main power source.”

“Well then.”  Frey rolled his wrist, swinging Magefire in his hand.  “Shall we?”

…

One the roof of Stark Tower, Natasha stared at the portal device.

“The scepter.”  A shaky voice came from behind her and to the right, Natasha turning and spotting the crumpled form of Dr. Selvig.  “Loki’s scepter.”

“Doctor.”  Natasha said as she padded over to him.

He paid her no mind, other than delivering his message to someone who could _do_ something with it.

“The energy.  The Tesseract.  Can’t fight.”  He stuttered out.  “You can’t protect against yourself.”

“Doctor, it’s not your fault, you didn’t know what you were doing.”  She soothed him – or tried to anyway.

Erik was _not_ one to be pandered to.

“Well, actually.”  He told her, staring at the portal device.  “I think I did.”  His voice was soft.  “I built in a safety to cut the power source.”

“Loki’s scepter?”

“May be able to close the portal,” Erik told her, then turned his head to stare down at the balcony where the glowing staff laid quiet and alone since Frey had taken it out of his father’s hands.  “And I’m looking right at it.”

…

Tony flew up alongside a transport-whale, trying to use his laser-cutter to take it down.

“Sir, you will lose power before you are able to penetrate that shell.”  Jarvis told his creator.

A moment passed, then Tony lined up again, this time with it’s head.

“Jarvis, you ever heard the story of Jonah and the Whale…?”  He asked.

“I wouldn’t consider him for a role-model, sir.”  There was a hint of exasperation in the normally collected AI’s tone.

Tony ignored him, and flew/blew right through the transport, only to crash-land when he came out the other side.

…

Up on the roof, Clint reached for an arrow, only to discover he was out, and take to beating down Chitauri with his bow and fists, barely escaping a squad of gliders that came right for him.

…

On the helicarrier, a bomber pilot had a voice come through his comm.

“Director Fury is no longer in command.  Override authority Alpha-Seven-One-One.”

“Alpha-Seven-One-One, confirmed.”  The pilot repeated.  “We’re go for takeoff.”

Maria Hill spotted the jet, scrambling to figure out what was going on.

“Sir, we have a bird in motion!”  She called out as the helicarrier cameras showed the flight deck.  “Anybody?  We have a rogue bird!”

Fury turned and ran for the flight deck.

“Shut it down!”  She called out.  “Repeat, takeoff is _not_ authorized.”

Fury stormed the flight desk, rocket launcher in hand, and took out the jet.

A decoy.

And another took off as the first crashed down on the helicarrier tarmac, Fury cursing the WSC with all his loathing usually restricted for the likes of Tony Stark and Frey Black-Lokison.

Slamming his hand on the door-close button, Fury secluded himself in the hall off the tarmac.

Pushing a button on his ear piece Fury rapidly flipped through his options then called out:

“Stark, you hear me?”  He took a breath.  “You have a missile headed straight for the city.”

Tony climbed back to his feet after his spectacular crash.

“How long?”  He asked as he dodged a massive blow from a Chitauri.

“Three minutes, max.”  Fury told him bluntly.  “Payload will wipe out Midtown.”

“Jarvis.”  Tony made a snap decision.  He didn’t have _time_ to play around with these grunts anymore.  A yield that strong will have shockwaves, blowback…they’d be lucky if the fallout _only_ took out New York and the immediately surrounding area.  “Put everything we’ve got into the thrusters.”

As always, Jarvis had his six.

“Already have, sir.”  Jarvis reported, and Tony blasted his way back up into the sky.

He had a bird to catch.

…

Out over the water, a pilot pulled the trigger.

“Package is sent.  Detonation in two minutes, thirty seconds, mark.”

And pulled up and away.

…

On the street, Thor knocked a squad of Chitauri away from the good Captain with a swing of his hammer sending a car tumbling end-over-end like a bowling ball with the Chitauri as pins, Steve struggling to regain his feet after taking a blast from an energy rifle to his side under the heavy chest body armor.

Lowering a hand, he lifted Captain Rogers to his feet asking: “Ready for another bout?”

“Why?”  Steve joked, holding one hand to his side wound.  “You sleepy?”

…

Up on the roof of the Tower, Erik instructed Natasha how to shut down the portal device, the spy holding the scepter steady as it punched through the Tesseract’s energy barrier.

“I can close it.”  She forced out through the strain of the sheer _strength_ it was taking to get the scepter through the barrier, even with the weakness Selvig had built into it.  “Can anybody copy?  I can shut the portal down.”

…

“Do it!”  Steve ordered.

…

“No, wait.”  Tony called, flying high above the city.

…

“Stark these things are still comin’.”  Steve told him, looking up for any sign of hot-rod red and gold alloy.

…

“I’ve got a nuke comin’ in.”  Tony told him.  “It’s gonna blow in less than a minute.”  Tony braked hard and shot straight up, coming in fast and hard on the missile’s tail.

“And I know _just_ where to put it.”

“Stark…”  Steve told him, voice steady and calm.  “You know that’s a one-way trip.”

Tony ignored him.

“Save the rest for the turn, J.”

“Sir.”  Jarvis thought to protest and then changed his mind.  “Shall I try Mr. Lokison?”

Tony glanced at the picture – he had no idea where Jarvis had gotten it from – of Frey with his head tossed back and laughing, green eyes bright and happy.  Science knows, he hadn’t ever seen the snarky-beautiful-bastard look that carefree over the last few days.

“Might as well.”

…

Frey heard the sound of his comm beep for a private connection, one finger tapping it live as his infamous fire-whip slashed through a squad of Chitauri, giving him a bare-moment’s peace in the midst of the glorious chaos, his father cackling evilly at his side.

Jor and Fen had found them in the battle not long after Frey had returned with the Other’s head, and now the quartet plus Nuada were cutting down the Chitauri so effectively that it seemed the vile creatures had finally learned what it was to _fear_.

“Go for Frey.”  He said, voice dancing as his magic did the same, sending out a shockwave that downed a transport as his uncles and Far pounced on it gleefully, ice-spears keeping it down and a jab of Nuada’s lance giving him the kill.

“Hey there, Green Eyes.”

Frey stopped, spinning on his heels as he searched the skyline for Tony, not liking what he saw – a missile piggybacking on top of a speck of red and gold.

He crouched, then burst from the ground in a crushing wave of power that blew back even his father – if only a step – rising high and fast to keep pace with the speeding blur of Ironman and missile, reaching him just in time to put his back – and power – into helping him turn the missile.

“What are you doing, Tony?”  Frey asked, keeping his voice steady.  He didn’t bother trying to argue, or change Tony’s mind.  He knew the genius mind well enough from his father – and in part himself – to know the futility of _that_.  “I thought only idiots laid on the wire?”

“What can I say.”  Tony cracked.  “Stars-and-Stripes has finally rubbed off on me.”

“You don’t _get_ to die today, you genius ass.”  Frey warned him, swallowing back something…odd.  Something that felt like… _tears_?

“Well, if a god commands it…”  Tony trailed off as the portal sped closer.  “Do me a favor, Green Eyes.”

“Yeah, Brown Eyes?”

“Take care of Jarvis…and remember me when you fly.”

“Always, Tony.”  Frey whispered, pulling back to get out of the blast radius.

Even _he_ wouldn’t likely survive _that_.

“Always.”

“Sir, we have lost all connections.”  Jarvis informed him as they breached the portal.

“I know, J.  It’s just you and me now.”


	8. Promises and Allies

** Truth Will Rise **

_“Hatred is gained as much by good works as by evil.”_

_Niccolo Machiavelli_

**Chapter Seven: Promises and Allies**

Cheers rose up on the helicarrier bridge as Ironman carried a nuclear missile through the portal.

From all but two.

Maria Hill traded a sorrowful glance with Director Fury.

Yes, they had won.

But at _what_ price?

…

In the far reaches of space, clinging to a missile, Tony’s suit failed.

And then he fell, staring up at a strange star-scape and an alien armada far more vast than anything he could have imagined.

…

On Earth, as the nuke impacted a massive four-pronged ship, the Chitauri fell as one.

Puppets with their strings cut.

“C’mon Stark.”  Natasha whispered, holding steady.

The orange glow of destruction grew, blotting out the alien star-scape, and Steve gave the order.

“Close it.”

…

Natasha pierced the energy beam.

A shockwave rippled across the sky.

And a small red-and-gold figure fell, outlined beautifully against the clear blue.

…

“ _Tony_.”  Frey breathed, still hovering in the air, turning with barely a thought and darting forward.

…

“Son of a gun.”  Steve said, half-laughing as he watched – the battle over – as Tony’s ragdoll form fell gracelessly, only to be scooped up in the strong arms of Frey Lokison, who corrected their path, setting down lightly on the pavement where the others had gathered in a matter of moments after the Chitauri fell, Loki and his group using magic to appear beside Captain America and Thor.

Steve, Thor, and the Hulk watched with bated breath, Loki and the others rolling their eyes a bit at the dramatics but watching nonetheless, as Frey crouched over the motionless form, easily turning Tony and his armor over onto his back and ripping away the golden mask.

Frey leaned down, checking for breathing, and Steve asked: “Is he?”

Grieving green eyes looked up and a tear dropped from ebony lashes.

“No.”

Whipping back around, uncaring of his audience, Frey got right down into Tony’s face and whispered: “I told you.”  Power – black and gold and the colors of _harvest_ – gathered in an open hand.  “You _do not_ have my permission to die today, Tony Stark.”

Slamming his hand – and the power he’d gathered in it, ignoring his own caution regarding Tony’s seeming near-immunity to magics – down onto Tony’s arc reactor, the others leapt back as there was a massive ripple as two opposing forces collided.

And Tony Stark gasped, lungs filling and soft brown eyes popping wide.

…

“I thought…?”  Jor whispered to Fen, his brother shrugging helplessly.

Loki looked at them askance.

“What?”  He asked his grandsons in a long-suffering tone.  “Your uncle has _always_ been destined to have power over Death.  From before his very breath, _She_ chose him.”

“Indeed?”  Nuada winged up a silver brow, eyeing the basilisk-hide-clad form speculatively.  “My my, you do make powerful young, don’t you Silver-Tongue?”

Loki just tossed his head, helm resting under his arm and spear tucked securely at his back, preening more than a little at the implied praise to both himself and his bloodline.

“Well, yeah, Grandsire.”  Jor explained, shifting a bit on his feet, then switched to the Jotnar tongue.  “But Frey _didn’t_ claim Death as his dominion.  He claimed Darkness and Shadow and then Chaos claimed _him._   He didn’t want the burden of being the God of Death for the paired ‘verses.”

“Hmm, interesting.”  Loki tsked, rolling his eyes a bit at the audacity of youth.  “And he _really_ thought that Lady Death would _leave_ it at that?”  He clicked his tongue.  “Foolish little prince.”

“I seem to remember.”  Nuada said, eyeing his fingernails in contemplation.  “A certain second prince of Asgard spiking the mead at a celebration of an alliance between two pantheons… _after_ stealing the virginity of a certain Vanir lord’s daughter…or was that a _different_ Loki… _hmm_ …”

“You’re not allowed to talk to my offspring or grandsons.”  Loki told his old – _very_ old, Nuada had to out age him by at least five thousand years, even with all of Loki’s travels – friend.  “You’ll give them ideas…”

Nuada scoffed.  “Ideas like how you earned your appellation I wonder.”  Nuada leaned back and mock-whispered to the avidly watching twins, Jor and Fen much more interested in the byplay between the two Crown Princes than that of the silly humans who were oohing and ahhing – or in Stark’s case cracking jokes – over their “nephew” Frey.  “It wasn’t for his way with words, I can tell you that.”

“Silence, demon.”  Loki slapped a hand over Nuada’s mouth.

Nuada’s eyes gleamed, the undefeated swordsman easily whirling out of Loki’s grasp, only to light on the crowds of humans that seemed to be gathering with a grimace.

“Remind your foolish little prince that I honored his call.”  Nuada switched into a more serious mien, and with a light step that few could match sped away into the shadows.

…

The Hulk roared.

“Uh, uh.”  Tony gasped out, eyes wide and locked on Frey’s dirt-and-blood streaked face.  “What the hell?”

Eyes darting, he clocked the Hulk, Captain Spangles, and Point Break close, with the Giant Smurfs, Albino Ninja, and Real Power surrounding him in a loose circle, though the alien contingent was having some strange-language discussion among themselves.

And then there was Green Eyes, crouched over him – in a not-fun way unfortunately – with a fierce expression melting into relieved humor on his face.

“What just happened?”  Tony asked, half-frantic and half-joking.  “Please tell me nobody kissed me.  Except Green Eyes.  Though if you did,” Tony stared up at the gorgeous creature in question.  “I demand a repeat – no fair taking advantage of my unconscious state.  Unless you really want to, then by all means…”

“Oh yeah.”  Clint laughed as he caught the last part.  “He’s ok.”

Steve looked around, barely able to believe it himself, and said: “We won.”

…

Natasha met them in the rumpus room as she came down from the roof – rather the worse for wear, with a beat-up Selvig hanging onto her and a case that the others assumed held the Tesseract in her opposite hand.

Tony was in the process of getting Steve and Thor to help pry him out of his armor, gladder than he would admit for the emergency manual releases Jarvis had insisted on, and definitely starting to _feel_ the crashes and falls he’d taken in the last day, new plans and schematics to improve the damage-protection to his body running through his brain.

“Jesus, Nat.”  Clint rushed over to her, even as the groups comms beeped – those that were still operational – that Fury was incoming on a quinjet.

They’d left the police and the army to start the clean up.

The day was won…and the Avengers were all barely running on fumes, Jarvis having already taken the liberty to order up a victory meal…and Mr. Stark’s private medical team.

“What happened to you?”  Steve frowned.

She hadn’t been nearly that beat up when he’d helped her hijack a Chitauri glider.

In fact, _both_ Natasha and Selvig looked like they’d gotten at least _part_ of a shrapnel blast.

“The scepter.”  Natasha explained, lowering Selvig to an empty section of the conversation pit stairs, where Hawkeye was ruling over the first-aid kit and doing some minor wound cleaning until the medical team could arrive.  “It shattered when I shut down the portal.”  She glanced over at a shell-shocked Tony who was barely responsive, even to Frey and the newly-arrived Happy who looked like he’d gone more than a few rounds with the Chitauri if his bruised-to-shit knuckles and holstered side-arm were any sign.  “Took out the air conditioning units with the blast, I think.”

“No probs.”  Tony snapped out of his holy-shit-I-really-almost-died daze to reassure her as Steve guided him down onto the couch.  Of them all, Tony it looked had taken the worst beating, next to _maybe_ Natasha depending on how much internal damage he’d done to himself.  “Jarvis already has the contractors on it.  Going to have to do some work, inside _and_ out…at least most of the damage was limited to floors that weren’t done yet in _someone’s_.”  He teased Loki and Clint.  “Bid to take over my Tower.”

“It _is_ an impressive edifice.”  Loki agreed readily.  “Tell me,” he quirked a brow.  “Art thou over-compensating for something?”

“Sonuvabitch.”  Tony groaned around a laugh, holding his side as the group who were in the middle of some serious post-adrenaline crashes burst into laughter.  “Not you too…”

Frey just nudged Tony’s hand with his own, giving the inventor a wink and then passing over the bottle of chilled water with a lingering touch – all watched like Hawkeye eyed Loki by both Thor and Loki himself…neither of whom seemed overly _enthused_ with the byplay, though _why_ for each remained to be seen.

“Mr. Stark.”  Jarvis’s mellow tones came from the ceiling, the AI able to reestablish full control after the portal device had been shut down, where before he’d only kept control of the labs and comms.  “Ms. Potts is on the line, should I put her through?”

Happy gave Tony a hang-dog look, complete with puppy-dog eyes which had Tony rolling his own.

“Put her through to my bedroom, Jarv.”  Tony gave Happy a firm look, not about to get in the middle of _that_ tongue lashing.  “Happy can take the call in there.”

“Yes, sir.”  Jarvis confirmed, then added as the sound of a jet landing sounded through the broken windows, which had taken more than one hit during the battle, as had the Stark sign.  “Director Fury has arrived.”

“You’re the best, J.”  Tony told him, then struggled a moment to sit up fully, getting himself help in the form of a solicitous Frey…exactly as he’d planned.

Only Tony was left gaping when after a _look_ from his… _something_?  _Maybe?_   Frey abandoned him, moving over to Natasha’s side and with another wordless look, this one much less pleasant, took charge of the Tesseract case and did… _something_ with it, making it disappear to parts unknown to anyone but Frey…and maybe Loki, Tony decided after a glance at the amused-but-resigned look on the… _king, prince’s?_ face.

The Giant Smurfs, Jor and Fur, Fen, something?, walked over to Loki and Frey, giving them each a hug and sharing a few hushed whispers, shooting a narrow-eyed glare at Thor – and what the fuck was _that_ about? – then did…another _something_ that Tony was too tired to care about but knew that he’d want Jarvis’s readings on as soon as he’d gotten some food and about twelve hours of sleep and disappeared as quickly as Frey had vanished the Tesseract case.

“Look.”  Tony said into the silence that grew tenser with each moment.  “Fury’s on my shit list over Phil, and I have a real hard time trusting him, let alone _SHIELD_ after that fuckery with the nuke.  That said.”  He pointed at the four human Avengers.  “Rogers, Banner, Barton, Romanoff.  I have over eighty floors of empty space – pick one if you want one.  Point Break, you good?”  He asked, craning his neck to stare at Thor who’d taken up standing guard behind Tony – and with a clear view of the roof-top stairs.

“I shall be summoned back to Asgard soon.”  Thor said with real regret.  “With the Tesseract gone, along with the scepter, and Loki cleared of wrong-doing, the other realms need minding with the destruction of the Bi-Frost.”

“Well, I’ll make you a floor anyway.”  Tony waved an airy hand.  “With lots of red drapes.”

Thor gave an honest guffaw at that, slapping Tony on the back – and partially dislodging a lung Tony was sure in the process.

“Hoo boy.”  Tony coughed, breath rattling a little.  “Mind the swing, big fella.  I’m a little more breakable without the armor.”

“Please, Stark.”  Fury snorted as he strode in, Hill trailing him.  “Your mouth is armor enough.”

“The man doesn’t lie.”  Loki commented, sipping idly at a bottle of water, gaining him an I’m-watching-you gesture from the leather-wearing-pirate-wanna-be.  “Which I gather is a first.”

Like air out of a popped balloon, the momentary levity caused by Thor dissipated, leaving an edgy stalemate in its place.

Fury’s eye flicked over the group, then turned to Hill.

“Agent Hill.”  He gestured towards the ears-perked Selvig.  “Please escort Dr. Selvig to the quinjet, he’ll need monitoring on the helicarrier for lingering effects from Tesseract exposure.”

Hill nodded, and moved to help the astrophysicist stand, the Avengers – plus one Avatar of Magic – watching with blank faces – not saying a word, though Thor did nod a pleasant goodbye to the man.

Loki and Frey traded a glance.  _I silenced him_.  Frey projected.  _He won’t even remember once he’s out of the room that the Tesseract was recovered.  He’ll assume it was destroyed in the blast, the same as Tony’s driver friend._   His father nodded, pleased as always with his son’s foresight…though displeased – a bit – that his words implied that he’d _only_ silenced the two nominal-civilians when he _could_ have cast his net over them all.

Meanwhile, Thor had helped a struggling Tony to stand, Frey having remained stationed with his back to the open balcony, eyeing Fury like he’d smelled something particularly foul.  Tony limped over to Fury, the other man watching him come all the way.  And yet.  Fury was _still_ somehow surprised when Stark hauled off and punched him, carrying a lot more power in that one hit than a man who looked like the slightest wind would knock him over should.

But then…Fury did suppose that he was underestimating the rage factor…and that Tony Stark was capable of expressing genuine human emotion beyond lust and vague scientific interest.

“That.”  Tony hissed, staggering a bit and Steve rushing to steady him, helping him to sit back down.  “Was for _Phil_.  Who _will_ be released into his husband’s care as soon as possible, am I clear?”

“Crystal.”  Fury agreed without fuss, one hand adjusting his jaw for a moment, half-amused at the thought that Tony Stark – the third smallest person in the room next to Natasha and Clint – who was his same height but not as broad – was the one who nearly dislocating his jaw.  “Just say the word.  You won.  You saved the world.  Now what are you going to do?”

“Help with the clean-up.”  Steve told him frostily, arms crossed over that massive chest as he flanked Tony’s couch, Thor moving forward to the other side as the others visibly closed ranks against Fury – and all he represented.  Nothing was said over the nuke, over the lies about their mission in the first place.

Nothing was needed.

It was understood all the same.

“Tender our resignations.”  Clint said, Natasha nodding at his side.

“Take my father home.”  Frey told him, then dashed his hopes before they could even arise.  “Then come back.  A little _magic_ should go a long way to helping smooth things over with the public, if Thor will put in a few PR appearances before the Gallows God calls him home?”  He arched a brow at the Thunderer, receiving a smiling nod in return.

“It’ll be a mess.”  Fury warned them, futilely he knew.  “And I don’t just mean the one outside.”

“We’ll handle it.”  Banner spoke up, gaze stern.

“And the Tesseract, the scepter?”  Fury checked, not expecting anything but needing to ask nonetheless.

“Destroyed.”  Natasha told him, gesturing to her shrapnel wounds.  “When I closed the portal.”

“Good enough.”  Fury decided with a nod.  “I’ll do what I can with the Council, it’s the _least_ I can do.”  He told them.  “But they won’t be held off forever.”

“Give us what you can.”  Tony told him, rubbing one hand over his eyes.  “We’ll do what we can.”

“A détente.”  Loki proposed, arching a brow.  “The allies this world gains through my son’s presence on this team cannot be understated.  But unless I’m misreading him?”  He posed to Frey, who shook his head.  “He won’t work for a man who will cause such grief to his own men, or a Council that would destroy so many for so little reward.”

“They won’t see it that way.”

“That’s not our problem.”  Tony snarked.  “After all, we don’t _work_ for them.  We _won’t_ work for them.  Not anymore.”

Fury nodded, a hint of a pleased – and a bit smug – smile tugging at his stern mouth, and then strode away in a dramatic flap of leather.

“Sir,” Jarvis chimed in, timing as excellent as ever.  “Doctor Palmer has arrived, and Dummy and You have relieved the delivery boy of his charge.  Shall I show them up?”

“Jarvis.”  Tony laughed.  “You are a _god_ among AI’s.”

…

Doctor Palmer turned out to be a beautiful blond woman – who put up with absolutely none of Tony’s usual theatrics, and threatened him with sharp, pointy needles if he tried do anything more strenuous than let Jarvis and the bots baby him for the next week.

Needless to say, she was an instant hit with the rest of the team, even finding herself charmed despite herself by Loki, who along with Frey had changed their clothes into human street-clothes of jeans and t-shirts when the doctor was announced…though jeans that looked designer and t-shirts made of silk.

You could take the princes out of the palace, Tony supposed with a huffing laugh.

Tony leaned over into Frey’s space, the still-unclassified-alien having reclaimed the spot next to him after Doctor Palmer had finished scolding Tony and moved onto Natasha as the next most damaged patient to the ER doctor’s experienced eye, as Frey groaned under his breath watching the ramping up Loki-and- _Please-call-me-Christine_ show.

"What's wrong with Loki going after Doc Palmer?"  Tony breathed into one golden-skinned ear.  “I didn’t take you for having _issues_ with interspecies dating?”

"My father has a type: beautiful, intelligent, and at least a bit dangerous.  He also rather notoriously has the attention span of a puppy on crack when it comes to his lovers.  This will either be the most casual of affairs or it will end in blood.  There is no in-between with that combination."  Frey rattled off with a sigh, then scooped up another forkful of noodles, chewing them rapidly and swallowing as Tony watched in fascination.

Yeah, he’d expected that Thor could probably put it away, Rogers too, but Loki and Frey were both putting down just as much food as the other two, with Bruce a surprising contender for the garbage gut award Tony was designing in his mind.

Being angry burned calories, he guessed.  Frey had just shrugged off the first stare after he pounded down a plate of pasta from Tony’s favorite Italian joint – very authentic and thankfully _outside_ the kill zone of the Chitauri in Little Italy – faster than anyone but Thor…but with a lot more manners.

“Magic.”  He’d snarked at them with an irritating smirk, Loki laughing into his own plate of eggplant parmigiana that he’d snapped up like Happy did Cheetos.

Getting back on point, Frey added a final thought to the Loki/Doc Palmer situation:

“Besides which.”  Frey pointed a fork at his father, a smirk on his lips.  “He’s just spent at _least_ a year in captivity.  She could be _anyone_ right now.  And I rather think you like your doctor on call and sans-broken-heart…though it’s better than him trying it on with Natasha I suppose. _She_ might actually break him if he stays true to form.”

Tony had a hard time arguing with that logic.

“Manwhore, huh?”  Not like Tony could talk but still.

“Oh.”  Frey snorted, feeling more than a little punch drunk and ready to drop into a post-battle coma.  “You have _no_ idea.”

Frey set his food aside and rose, feeling his back give a delightful pop as he did so, Tony grabbing hold of one hand.

“Where’re you going gorgeous?”

“I have _one_ last errand to run before I crash out.”  Frey told him, then leaned down and pressing a teasing kiss to the side of Tony’s mouth, still holding a _real_ kiss in reserve for a time when they both weren’t still half-flying from the battle and ready to fall.  “Be back soon.”

“M’kay.”  Tony let his eyes flutter closed, barely even twitching when Thor rolled his eyes and hauled him up, moving him to his bedroom.  “G’night.”

“Goodnight, sir.”  Jarvis’s soothing tones washed over him.  “I will see to your guests being properly outfitted with guest rooms and the back-up security force has things well in hand at the Tower entrances.”

…

Media outlets all over the world debated the Avengers, politicians weighing in, the public divided.

Until, that was, the extraordinary Pepper Potts stepped into the limelight, wrangling the media and slipping with ease from Stark Industries COO one moment to the Avengers’ PR rep the next…with a bit of _help_ from their presiding magical alien to spin things _just so_.

The public was quickly enchanted with the dynamic duo of Frey Lokison, who could charm a room – and drop panties and trousers alike with a single mischievous glance from under inky lashes – and Thor Odinson, whose boisterous good-nature and golden looks were just as effective.

They made between them – Tony (really, mostly Pepper), Frey, Thor, and Steve – the public see the Avengers as _people_ if not strictly human while Clint and Natasha managed to hang onto their anonymity by their fingernails and Bruce passed as just another brain in the Stark Industries arsenal.

And the world turned on, after all, who could deny the shining icon of goodness that was Captain America, now outed as home-grown Brooklyn boy Steven Rodgers, thanks to losing his cowl during the fight in New York?

…

“Where are the Avengers?”  A councilman with a thick accent demanded of Director Fury.

“I’m not currently tracking their whereabouts.”  Fury told him, arms folded across his chest.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t make a damn good guess, but after Coulson “checking himself out of care” – read: taking off with one Frey Lokison after he’d been updated by his worst-possible-influence friend of Fury’s unification-by-man-down play – he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the Avengers or their assorted hangers on and handlers since his short visit to Stark Tower right after the battle…which may or may _not_ have included a punch to the head from Stark over letting him think Coulson was dead for even a moment.

Nick was honestly expecting a much _worse_ reaction from Coulson once Rogers shows him what Nick did to his beloved trading cards.

And despite trying…his techs hadn’t been able to hack Stark’s system to confirm the Avengers’ whereabouts in the Tower, nor could his best-remaining operative even step one _toe_ inside of it.

It was looking like Fury had done his job in bringing together the Avengers as a unified team.

He just didn’t anticipate them uniting against _him_ …but he’d take it nonetheless.

There were bigger threats out there after all, than _one_ spymaster with an eyepatch, and after tempers cooled, he imagined that either Coulson, Romanoff, or even Loki would remind the hot-heads of that much.

“I’d say,” he continued, no sign of his thoughts showing on his face.  “They’ve earned a leave of absence.”

“And the Tesseract?”  The same councilwoman who ordered the strike against New York City asked.

“Word from Agent Romanoff confirmed that both Tesseract and the scepter were destroyed in closing the portal over New York.”  He reported, even as he doubted the _convenience_ of that report, even if Romanoff had had enough shrapnel damage, as did Selvig who had come back with Fury from the Tower, to confirm at least the explosion.

“And you _believe_ that, Director Fury?”  Alexander Pierce probed.  “In all the years it has been tested by both Hydra and then the SRS and SHIELD, never as the Tesseract been shown to have any vulnerabilities.”

“Whether I believe it or not, is irrelevant.”  Fury told him bluntly.  “Either way, the Tesseract is where it belongs: out of our hands.”

“That’s not your call.”  Pierce’s voice could freeze the Arctic.

“I didn’t make it.”  Fury shot back, calm as could be.  “I just didn’t _argue_ with the gods that _did_.”

“So…”  Pierce drawled.  “You let the aliens lie to you – or take the Tesseract – as well as the war-criminal when he should be answering for his crimes.”

“I believe.”  Fury cocked a brow.  “That it was ruled Agent Barton and Dr. Selvig – as well as any of the other effected humans – could not be prosecuted for their actions under mind-control.  Or have I been misinformed?”

“We do not have conclusive proof…”  The accented councilman began to argue, only to be shut down.

“Loki’s behavior during the Battle of New York after Frey Black broke the scepter’s control is proof enough.”  Fury said.  “Besides which, I don’t really fancy having to fight off another alien invasion if we _did_ try and judge him for any supposed crimes you might to charge him with.  Or have you forgotten the very real _display_ a pair of Jotnar put on, along with an Elven Prince, and the other three non-human participants of the battle?  Our world is growing, ladies and gentlemen.”  Fury announced.  “Our understanding expanding.  And we will _need_ allies if we want to survive.  Jotunheim and Asgard will keep each other in check.  So long as we don’t piss them off by doing anything _stupid_ to their joint Prince and heir.”  He arched a brow.  “Or have you forgotten so quickly that we are not dealing with _democracies_ , but _royalty_?”

A charged silence echoed in the wake of his wake-up call, then was broken once more by the same councilwoman.

“I don’t believe you know what you’ve started.  Befriending aliens, letting the Avengers loose on this world.”  She chided him.  “They’re dangerous.”

“They surely are.”  Fury agreed with a smug smirk.  “The whole world knows it.  _Every_ world knows it.”

“Was that the point of all this?”  Pierce asked, voice tight.  “A statement?”

“A promise.”  Fury corrected, and cut the call.

Out on the bridge, Maria Hill cornered him.

“Sir,” she asked.  “How does it work now?  They’ve cut themselves loose.  We get into a situation like this again, what happens then?”

“They won’t cut us out completely.”  Fury told her, staring out over the clouds.  “Black is good, better than I expected, but he doesn’t have the _resources_ on this world to weigh every threat, know every dark heart.  They’ll need us – just as much as we’ll need them.”

“Coulson?”

“On official medical leave for an undetermined period of time.”  Fury told her with a short nod.  “Courier over a pair of independent contractor contracts with rights of refusal for Widow and Hawkeye.  Coulson – when he’s able – will be put on permanent assignment to the Avengers team as the SHIELD liaison.  That’ll be all, Agent Hill.”

“Yes, sir.”

…

_Author’s Note: This marks the end of the Avengers arc of Truth Will Rise.  I’ll be back in a couple weeks with an “interlude” chapter before starting the ramp up into IM3 and Thor 2._


	9. Dynastic

** Truth Will Rise **

_Author’s Note: This is the first of the “interlude” chapters as last chapter saw the close of the events of Avengers (2012).  There will be several in-between chapters where our heroes start settling in and dealing with day-to-day drama instead of world-ending events.  Then we will pick back up with a barely-there Iron Man 3 (it’s not my fav though I think Tony is closest to real/raw in it) and a much-altered Thor 2 series of events._

_On another note, the song this time is “May It Be” keeping with the theme we have going, I like Peter Hollen’s cover best but that’s just me…_

 

**Chapter Eight: Matters Dynastic**

_No one gossips about other people’s secret virtues._  
-Bertrand Russell, English author, mathematician,  & philosopher (1872 - 1970)

…

_Stark Tower, New York City; May 1 st, 2012_

_…_

The first night and morning after the battle passed in a blur of sleep and nightmares of the battle, even for those like Thor and Frey who had more stamina than their human counterparts…mainly due to neither Frey nor Thor taking the time to catch even a cat-nap or rest while Loki was so close but yet so very far away, further even than they’d thought, not merely _altered_ by the Other, but willingly locked into his own mind to protect his son from drawing the eye of the Mad Titan _before_ Frey even became aware such a being existed.

Jarvis took charge, together with his helper bot “brothers” Dummy, You, and Butterfingers, directing the security detail to keep both press, the public, and anyone _else_ from gaining access to Stark Tower while the helper bots started cleaning – or at least shoving the worst of the debris out of the way until the industrial cleaning staff can come in and start working…which was on hold until the Avengers and company started waking from their post-battle exhaustion.

Plastic sheeting went up over the now-missing balcony windows and doors, glass was cleared, and the heroes slept, Frey predictably being the first to rise…mainly due to him having crashed out on the rumpus-room couch after setting wards around the Tower – and especially the now-open balcony – with the dregs of his energy after fetching Phil down to the room Clint had been given and getting him settled, before passing out face-down into the lush piece of furniture.

His powers fed on the chaos of battle – and even the on-going cleanup efforts afterward – this was true.

But that didn’t stop him from eventually burning out, or his mind slowing from strain, especially with the devastation he’d visited on the Other and its floating fortress.

Frey probably could’ve used another dozen hours of rest instead of the eight he got, but the sound of stilettos clicking on the hard-tile of the rumpus room roused him from his slumber.

Though once he woke, dagger in-hand and hidden from view between his leg and the arm of the couch he’d been using as a pillow, and took one look at the half-all-business and half-bone-deep- _worry_ warring expressions on the face of who he recognized from photos as the dynamic Pepper Potts, he found himself impressed that Happy and Jarvis had managed to keep her at bay for the mere night and early morning they’d managed.

For her part, Pepper, trailing Butterfingers with a tray piled high with boxes and bags from a nearby bakery and Dummy following behind with cardboard carafes of coffee and tea and plastic gallons of various juices, took one look at both the relatively minor damage to the rumpus room and the adorably-rumpled-and-disgruntled look on the flat-out beautiful man on the couch and gave in internal sigh.

Jarvis had already filled her in – as much as he felt was appropriate and not a betrayal of Tony’s confidence – that his creator seemed to have taken a more-than-normal _interest_ in this particular member of the Avengers – and _not_ for reasons of science and admiration like his near fan-boying of Bruce Banner.

That didn’t necessarily warm her towards him, hero or not, or mean that she would – or even _could_ – trust him with her vulnerable friend/boss’s heart.

A strange notion, as for a very long time, she was half-convinced Tony didn’t have such a thing: just lights and clockwork.

Bright green eyes pinned her in place, making even indomitable Pepper pause in their glacial intensity, then he blinked and the frozen green warmed, changing from frosted spring green to warm emerald.

Pepper noted the quick shift from distrust to simple caution once those eyes flicked behind her and took in the bots, noting it for later, then made her way to the bar counter and efficiently set up the brunch spread as he rose and stretched, catching _something_ shiny and pointed disappearing from his far-hand as he rose that she caught in the mirror behind the bar as she stood with her back to him.

Though, who could blame her for watching when he tossed the unruly mess of rich ebony hair over his shoulder, stretching his arms _high,_ over his head, t-shirt creeping up to show off a stomach ripped with muscle and dusted the same gold-tinted ivory as his flawless face.

Well.

She corrected herself.

Flawless except for the remainders of scratches and scrapes from the battle and some smudges of dirt here and there.

He’d obviously given himself – or been given by a medic – a half-hearted scrub down before crashing out.

Pepper _was_ surprised however that Jarvis hadn’t directed him to a guest room the way he’d done the rest of the crew.

Granted, the rooms were outfitted with just the bare essentials not fully kitted-out like Tony’s – and her and Happy’s – floors but they still had to be more comfortable than the couch with just some plastic sheeting to block out the New York winds and clamor.

Seeing the consternated frown – or the fraction of one that counted for it – on Ms. Potts’ lovely face, Frey gave her mind a quick skim, brows rising of their own accord in surprise when all he was able to glean without diving down were a few disjointed surface thoughts.

Ms. Potts claimed an organized and ordered mind, rare in most pure non-magical humans.

Though he could easily see after dealing with Tony for the last fifteen – or however long – years first as his personal assistant then later as Stark Industries CEO while Tony was having a near-death experience and currently as his COO where she would _have_ to have a regimented and disciplined mind to _survive_ managing Tony, and one capable of stringent task-management and efficient decision making.

From the fragments he _could_ read without either alerting her to something being _wrong_ or worse causing her hurt or harm – which would definitely cast a pall over his burgeoning flirtation with Tony – she was clicking off a list of how to handle the Avengers’ press – good and bad – as well as eyeing him up, advancing plans to help with cleaning up the wreckage, managing the recovery of alien tech for Stark Industries – that one had him arching a brow – and a dozen other tasks, all with an underlying _tone_ or _flavor_ of worry for her boss and best-friend.

Then and there, Frey decided that it was most _definitely_ be in his best-interest to get and keep the formidable Ms. Potts onside if he was going to be serious about one Mr. Tony Stark.

And short acquaintance or not, Frey had never been one to dally when something – or someone – caught his eye, a trait he rather thought he shared with his newest…he would say infatuation, and knew that’s what his father would call it, but the word didn’t feel… _right_ for some reason.

Worries for another day.

Putting on his full _Frey Lokison, Prince of Jotunheim and Asgard_ manners, Frey strode forward his clothes shifting with him and his appearance cleaning-up and straightening with an absent thought and a few spells.  Hair braided back and tidy – _not_ the wild mass of warrior’s braids from the day before, which more than one enterprising bystander had gotten footage of despite his relatively short public exposure during the battle, being mostly occupied either breaking the Mind Stone’s – and who now he knew as Thanos, the Mad Titan’s – control on Loki and then sowing destruction and chaos in the far-reaches of the Universe Cosmic.  Last to finish just before he gained her side was his clothes switching out for a long acromantula silk tunic and dragonhide pants and boots.

Snapping a crisp bow, Frey held out his hand, Pepper taking it with a bemused look at his insta-shower-and-change routine.

“Prince Frey Haraldr Lokison, milady.”  He said with enough pomp and a quirky smile to make her grin.  “Of Jotunheim and Asgard.”  Lifting her hand, he pressed a thoroughly courtly kiss to the back of her soft-but-strong hand.  “Please, call me Frey.”

“Oh?”  Pepper teased, her sense of humor well-honed after dealing with Tony and Rhodey for years.  Not to mention the big lug that had stolen her heart over late-night Tony fiascos and plates of midnight pizza named Happy.  “Not Dr. Black?”

He laughed, humor softening his jewel-eyes further with a murmured “touché.”

“Pepper Potts.”  She turned her hand in his and gave it a firm shake, then after he released it waved towards the spread.  “Call me Pepper.  I come bearing breakfast – well, brunch.”  She corrected with a glance at her watch.  “Though I didn’t expect anyone to be up yet.”

“Magic.”  He winked, already setting to making himself a strong cup of coffee and a plate as she sat elegantly on a stool and settled in to get to know the… _being?_ Who had caught her Tony’s attention.  “Or,” he caved, knowing that she was too sensible a woman from the brief scan he’d done to take that explanation at face value.  “A lifetime of being trained in sleeping lightly and keeping my mind aware in an unsecure area.”  He pointed one finger from his hand wrapped around a hot mug of coffee at her shoes.  “They clack on hard surfaces.”

“Sorry.”  She shrugged, a bit abashed that she hadn’t thought of that.  Though to her credit, Tony slept so little – or conversely so deeply – that it hadn’t ever been an issue before.  “Busy morning wrangling the press.”

“What’s the verdict?”  Frey asked with genuine interest, cutting his savory crepe into manageable pieces.  “Are they ready to canonize us or burn us at the stake?”

“Bit of both,” she smiled a bit.  “Most settling somewhere in the middle, though more than one politician is using the damage as an excuse to pillory Tony…which is status quo for the most part.”

Frey swallowed, holding in a moan as the flavors of thin pastry and sausage and spiced apples burst over his tongue.

Either he was hungrier than he’d thought from the energy he’d used over the last several days or Pepper was a food-acquiring goddess who needed to be lavished with endless praise.

Probably both.

Humming around his crepe and coffee, Pepper arching a brow as he managed to demolish his plate of crepe and omelet and a side of fruit chasing it all with a couple mugs of coffee, Frey enjoyed the quiet – if watchful – silence of the rumpus room, broken only by the sounds of the city pouring in through the broken window bank.

Seeing his glance at the plastic, Pepper supplied: “Contractors are scheduled to start repairs here in the morning.  Jarvis and I figured we’d give our mighty heroes time to sleep it off before the hammers and drills start up.”  She smirked a little.  “Tony tends to be useless at least a day or two after these big dust-ups – aside from his injuries.”

Frey chuckled, feeling pretty useless himself at the moment – or so he told her, and then changed the subject.

“Speaking of repairs and PR.”  Frey leaned back against the bar, one boot foot hooked around the stool rung, hands once more soaking in the warmth from the heavy ceramic mug.  “Would having the Avengers and Company helping out outside help things, or cause unnecessary fuss?”

Coppery brows rose in pleased surprise.

“It would help – quite a lot possibly.”  She told him with genuine frankness.  “Right now you’re all these _super_ human beings at best and distinctly _alien_ at worst.  Humanity isn’t known for its generally accepting nature…though things _have_ gotten better in the last few decades on that front, there’s still a long way left to go.”

“You needn’t tell me that.”  He smiled, a touch of knowing _feyness_ dancing around his eyes.  “I was raised on Earth – not this one.”  He cut off the question he saw forming on her lips at the pass.  “Another version of it in a different ‘verse.  I’m at least _part_ human, and was raised among some rather ordinary ones among the _extraordinary_.  I know quite well our foibles and failings, as well as our virtues.”

“Hey,” Tony grumbled as he more stumbled than walked into the room.  “No questioning the extraterrestrial life-form without me, Pep.”

“Oh, don’t worry, she wasn’t.”  Frey hid his grin behind his mug, mischief dancing out at Pepper who muffled a laugh of her own as Tony nearly _dove_ face-first into a mug she obligingly handed over before sprawling onto a nearby armchair with a scowl for the stools.

Not as healed as he was pretending then, Frey decided, running his eyes in a near-clinical motion over the slouched form that was carefully designed to keep pressure off of Tony’s chest and ribs.

That would be something to watch, as with Tony’s… _odd_ , resistance to regular magic Frey wasn’t sure he wanted to risk trying any of his more _specialized_ powers on the man.

“I _am_ capable of offering information all on my own, Tony, as I’m sure you remember.”  Frey finished his verbal thought as Tony reemerged from the depths of his mug.

An action that Frey was certain was half habit and half prompting from an insistent You who had wheeled over as soon as Pepper had finished dishing up a plate for the bot’s creator and set it on You’s tray for delivery.

“Thanks, Pep, You.”  Tony murmured, a bit more life coming into his face with the caffeine injection and the smell wafting off of the blueberry pancakes and bacon.  A few bites were devoured, Tony moaning obscenely at the food, and then he pointed a fork at Green Eyes.  “And yes, but never really about _yourself_.”  He rebutted now that his active brain was kicking back online and dialing in to his surroundings instead of staying in his morning/post-battle routine programming.

“Haven’t I?”  Frey smiled the quirky smile that Tony could now peg as inherited from Loki, murmuring softly.  “My, how terrible of me, keeping data away from you.  It’s almost as if it was done… _on purpose_.”  He gave a mock-gasp and widened his eyes as Pepper lowered her head to her arms resting on the bar in helpless laughter, Tony narrowing his eyes with a playful sneer.

Watching a half-pouting Tony dig back into his food with less enthusiasm, Frey gave in – just a smidge.

“Here’s some data for you then, Brown Eyes.”  Frey told him, waiting until the soulful gaze in question returned to his own before supplying the hook to his bait.  “I’m _not_ , strictly speaking, an _extra_ terrestrial.”

Rising, Frey set aside his mug, snapping his fingers in a mildly-showy display of magic for his human audience – Pepper having never seen him do anything other than the brief clean-up earlier after all – and both cleaning the mug and filling it with tea, a platter instantly filled with a protein-heavy brunch, both mug and plate plus utensils following after him in a magical conga-line as he strode towards the elevator.

“Where’re you goin’, gorgeous?”  Tony called out as Frey tapped the down button.

“To see my father.”  He supplied, shooting a look over his shoulder.  “Ms. Potts, I meant what I said about the cleanup.  Give me a little while to check on him and the others to surface and we’ll hash it out, yeah?”

Not waiting for her compliance, she’d already agreed it was a good idea after all, Frey closed the elevator doors, both giving himself time to brace for the fallout of captivity and torture his father was most likely just starting to feel and face, and to ready himself for what he was sure to be a parade of bullshit from the so-called world leaders once they found their collective asses with both hands and a map.

...

“Huh.”  Was Tony’s eloquent summation after the elevator doors closed.  “That’s weird.”

“What?”  Pepper asked, coming around to get a better look at the patchwork of bruises and scrapes that was Tony this time.  “The floating place setting or that your newest crush apparently has a sense of familial care and affection?”

“Ow.”  Tony protested as she found one of his tenderer spots on his shoulder from forcing a nuke to change direction after crash-landing to gut a flying whale.  “Hurts.  Wounded.  Handle with care.”  He gave her puppy dog eyes and sniffled.

“Oh stop it.”  Pepper told him exasperated, even as a smile tugged at her lips, taking the empty mug and rising, pressing a kiss to his scraped brow-bone as she did so.  “Doctor Palmer gave you your marching orders?”

“Yes’m.”  Tony hummed, then turned back to topic now that _that_ bit of domestic was taken care of.  “And I meant the elevator.  I’ve seen him bippity-boppity himself all over the place in the last couple days.  And _now_ he takes the elevator?”  Tony harrumphed.  “Not buying it E.T.  What did he mean about the cleanup?  We’ve got one of our subsidiaries on the alien tech and a non-profit on the repairs, right?”

“Naturally, sir.”  Jarvis spoke up from the ceiling, a little offended that the question even needed to be asked.  “However, I believe Prince Lokison was referring to gaining positive press by showing the Avengers helping fix what they helped break, sir.”

“Why Jarvis, that was _almost_ snarky.”  Tony said, tone over-the-top aghast before grinning at the nearest camera.  “You’ve been getting some bad habits lately, by all means carry on.  I can’t be the _only_ eccentric genius around here.”

“Given that you have opened the Tower to the Avengers – Dr. Banner notably among them – there is no risk of that, sir.”  Jarvis shot back, You, Butterfingers, and Dummy’s optics swiveling between the cameras and their creator comically. 

Pepper, long used to the cracked dynamic, ignored the byplay as she got busy on her custom Starkpad, Jarvis linking her up to the Stark Industries mainframe to allow her to continue on with her day – and expanding on Frey’s idea – while Tony managed to scrape himself up into _something_ approaching coherent.

Shifting a bit, then accepting a glass of water and a shallow dish with a few pills – antibiotics and a mild muscle relaxer prescribed by Palmer, Tony tended to shy away from narcotic pain killers for reasons pertaining to his easy ability to acquire _habits_ – from You at Pepper’s gimlet-eyed stare above her tablet, Jarvis automatically shifting processing power to have a holographic interface workstation spring up around his creator, Dummy wheeling over a pair of VR gloves with a happy chirp.

“Thanks kids.”  Tony patted Dummy on his near joint, the bot rolling away help his brothers sweep and haul away broken glass from the balcony for cleaning and processing on the manufacturing floors now that they had done what they could – with help from the manufacturing bots – on the other floors.  “Daddy’s gotta work now.”

“Tony…”  Pepper sighed, shaking her head over her boss’s coping techniques.

“Pepper…”  Tony mock-whined at her.  “I’m obeying the Doctor’s orders, but, _but_ , I just spent several days digging into SHIELD secrets and making science-love to my brain twin-”

“Who you’ve swept away to lock in your R&D labs…”  Pepper muttered under her breath, Tony paying her no mind.

“-and playing with real, _alien_ advanced technology.”  Tony paused, looking back over at Jarvis.  “Which reminds me…J, _please_ tell me you came back online while Green Eyes was doing his serious-epic-scale mojo and got scans or I might cry.”

“Much of what Prince Lokison did during that battle was outside the range of my sensors, sir.”  Jarvis told him regretfully, Tony giving a weak whimper at the bad news.  “However, while there wasn’t much visible work being done, I _did_ manage quite a few readings while Prince Lokison worked on restoring Prince Laufeybarn to spec, and have harvested what data I could from the remains of the Mark VII HUD and memory banks.”

Tony sighed a bit, then nodded.  “It isn’t the full Happy Meal, Jarv, but I’ll take it.  Thanks, J.”

“It was my pleasure, sir.”  Jarvis responded.  “If I may say, some of the energy readings appeared quite interesting.”

“Oh, really?”  Tony murmured, voice low.  “Jarvis, such a tease.  Compile it all for me, will ya buddy?  I’ve got to work on the redesign of the Tower before Pepper takes over… _again_.”

Pepper just rolled her eyes with a click of her tongue, winkling her nose at the slur on her taste and keeping one eye on his interface screens and one on her own work as slowly the Tower – and its occupants – came to life.

…

It was about an hour later – and most of the Avengers and Company had wandered up to the rumpus room, including a pair of rumpled and red-rimmed-eyed Phil-and-Clint – when Jarvis spoke up, drawing the attention of everyone…save Frey and Loki who were still MIA, though a combination of Thor and surprisingly Natasha had kept anyone from hunting them down for a confab.

“Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, Jarv?”  Tony asked with about one-tenth of his attention as he split his main focus between the Tower redesign and breaking down renders of the Tesseract, scepter, and the first looks at the Chitauri tech that his lab-drones down on the public R&D floors were putting together; Bruce joining in at a workstation that Jarvis and the bots had helped him set up when he’d registered what Tony was working on while they waited for the final member – members?, Loki’s inclusion having not yet been either debated or decided – of the Avengers to assemble.

“I believe.”  Jarvis flicked on a projector onto the wall where a big-screen tv _used_ to be.  “That you will want to see this.”

“What the…?”  Tony saved his work and batted it away for retrieval later as his eyes focused on the picture – no, _vision_ – Jarvis was showing him.  “This in real-time?”

“Yes, sir.”  Jarvis confirmed.  “Much of the last hour has been spent with Prince Lokison practicing what seemed to be a form of meditation while Prince Laufeybarn slept, however a few minutes ago Prince Laufeybarn became… _distressed_.”

 _This_ being a reprise of a scene that has played itself out over and over again through the years – thought it was the first time any of the Avengers-and-Company had seen it, including Thor.

It was an intensely _private_ thing, one that Steve at least – and perhaps Pepper from the look on her face – felt they were intruding on.

Others were not so high-moral’d, and simply watched a rare _peek_ into the internal workings of father-and-son, though if they didn’t _know_ the roles at play, most would have thought them reversed, as a far-too-young looking Loki huddled and shook, Frey’s strong arms wrapped around him, anchoring and comforting him in his time of distress.

But what had made the moment _more_ was the _singing_.

“He rarely sings anymore.”  Thor murmured, quietly, as if he spoke too loudly that Frey would somehow hear him and stop.  “Not since he disappeared for a time and came back… _darker_.”

And the song?

Not the one that was just _their_ song, Frey aware as ever that he was likely to be watched in a place built and polished by Tony Stark and having met Jarvis.

But one no less dear, if with a very _different_ meaning behind it.

…

Not wanting to rouse his father by disturbing whatever magical wards Loki set around his guest room, Frey took the slow way down to the “guest” floors that had been furbished before the Tower officially went operational – _hells, was it only a few days ago?_ – and Tony Stark took residence.

 _Slow_ being subjective, as Frey imagined most people – including himself before he learned his first method of magic movement, shadow-stepping, from Heidi – would find the elevator controlled like most things in the Tower by Jarvis to be much faster than normal.

Plates and mug and accoutrements following in his wake, Frey slipped between the magical trip-lines his father had set up, his ability to do so, so easily likely being a reason Loki chose those wards and not something more stringent.

Making his way into the room – and around a trap that seemed designed for Thor in particular – Frey felt something within him ease at the peaceful rest his father was enjoying, setting the brunch aside on the nightstand and putting a warming charm over it.

With nothing to do but wait, Frey slipped into his mind-scape, sorting his roiling thoughts from the last several days – hells, from the last _years_ (for him) that his father had been missing – and the aftermath of finding him at last.  Draco’s advice – taking himself _far_ away and letting time slip by without him until he was no longer in danger of storming Asgard and teaching Odin a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget – had helped…but also _hurt_.

Time had given him perspective, that was true.

But it had _also_ carved his father’s absence into his heart with knives of pain and longing both razor-sharp and achingly dull.

His father was back – and himself again which had proven more difficult a challenge than finding him in the first place had been – but the wounds were only just _starting_ to heal.

For his father, and even Thor and Frigga and the others who loved Loki, as well.

It wouldn’t be _easy_ , coming back from this… _breakage_ , but they would manage it.

They had to.

Frey would allow nothing less.

…

Time passed for both sleeping father and meditating – and, well, _plotting_ – son, only to be shattered not by Loki’s awakening…but by his breaking.

It was the change in breathing that drew Frey from his meditative state, eyes snapping open and shooting to the form on the bed.

Loki laid – his own eyes open but unseeing – rigid and paralyzed in terror at _whatever_ or _whomever_ it was that plagued his unconscious mind, the only noticeable tell, to someone not staring at him, his panicked breathing.

Frey was out of his chair and wrapping his father in his arms in a nanosecond, pinning his father – gently, but as unmoving as Mt. Everest – with Loki’s back to his chest, arms and legs entangled with his own.

And then he did as the shivering – the movement so fine it was invisible to even Frey’s trained eye – form had done for him many years before, when the trauma he had been through had been too much for Loki’s son to take.

He held him, and he sang, twining Loki’s magic with his own, and let his power and familiar touch lull him back to true wakefulness.

 _“May it be an evening star_  
Shines down upon you  
May it be when darkness falls  
Your heart will be true  
You walk a lonely road  
Oh! How far you are from home…”

…

“Umm…”  Tony frowned, head cocking to one side.  “Is he singing one of the songs from the Lord of the Rings?”

“Dude.”  Clint shook his head.  “You just showed your geek.  And it smells like _loser_.”

The pair found themselves quickly _shh’d_ by Pepper, while the more… _militant_ minded of their… _friends?  Co-heroes?  Teammates?_   Pelted them with pillows for the offence.

…

 _“Mornie utulie_  
Believe and you will find your way  
Mornie alantie   
A promise lives within you now…”

…

“Translation, Jarvis?”  Tony asked softly, this time getting a few side-eyes but no interruption…mainly because the rest of them wanted to know too.

“Unknown, sir.”  Jarvis replied in just as gentle a tone, the self-reproach clear even so.  “It is a dialect that I am unfamiliar with.  And no, Agent Barton, it is _not_ one of the Elvish dialects created for Mr. Tolkien.”

“It’s Jotnar.”  Thor rumbled, eyes bright.  “It means: darkness has come, and darkness has fallen, respectively.”

Tony – as well as Bruce, Phil, and Clint for that matter – arched a brow at _Thor_ knowing a word like respectively…though he _was_ literally ancient it was easy to forget all he must _know_ behind the mask of puppy-like enthusiasm and booming laughter – or alternatively, thundering anger and rage.

…

Eventually, Loki came back to himself, turning his face from the ever-watchful cameras both father-and-son had noted, and let the tears fall, soaking into the fine Acromantula silk of Frey’s tunic.

Nothing a little spell couldn’t fix.

And they both had heavier things on their minds – and hearts – than a bit of magical dry-cleaning.

 _“May it be the shadow's call_  
Will fly away  
May it be your journey on  
To light the day  
When the night is overcome  
You may rise to find the sun…”

The tears slowed, and Frey’s tight-fast grip loosened, the pair relaxing into each other, reveling in their reunion in a way that had been impossible before with the battle and then the immediate aftermath.

They were safe.

Their _family_ was safe.

In the end, that was all that mattered.

Loki’s strong baritone rose to join with Frey’s lush bari-tenor, singing the refrain together as their audience watched – nearly spellbound – by the magical pair.

_“Mornie utulie  
Believe and you will find your way...”_

…

Gasps burst from the rumpus room as the magic of father and son danced out with their voices, smoothing Frey’s hair, clearing Loki’s face, rising and rising and twining together, and then sinking back into them with a warm glowing pulse as the last words fell from twin lush lips.

  
“Mornie alantie   
A promise lives within you now.”

…

_“A promise lives within you now…”_

Frey let go, releasing his father then said with a wry look at the nearest camera.

“I think we have an audience.  I feel more than Jarvis watching over us.”

Loki snorted.  Of _course_ they did.  He may not be _proud_ of how he’d acquired his knowledge of these… _Avengers_ that his son had fallen in with – most of it gleaned from either battles of wits or straight from a bespelled Agent Barton – but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to use it.

And Tony Stark did not read to Loki as a man who left things to _chance_ after being betrayed for so long and so horribly by a man he trusted with every aspect of his life, save his most impressive creations – his constructs, his robotic children, the most impressive of which, _Jarvis_ , who stood as guardian over his father’s empire while Stark fly off to save the world…often from itself.

A man like that wasn’t one who would rest easy unless he knew _exactly_ where possible threats like himself and the assassins dwelled in his domain.

As if to prove Loki’s very thoughts correct, Jarvis spoke over the bedside speaker on the integrated wall panel that passed – for the most part – as a clock and room controls.

“Once you have cleaned up, Prince Laufeybarn.”  Jarvis’s voice was ever-so-proper…but there was also just the barest hint of sheepishness underneath the stiff British tones.  “The others have gathered on the Penthouse floor, and are awaiting your presence to discuss Prince Lokison’s earlier proposal to Ms. Potts.”

“Proposal?”  Loki asked as he clambered gracefully off of his son-shaped-pillow and removed the warming charm over his meal with a flick of a finger, sitting on the edge of the bed to bolt down the sustenance – which tasted even better than the pasta and various foods from the night previous.

Frey hummed in answer, standing in front of the windows and taking in the busy New York early afternoon.

Loki rolled his eyes – knowing from experience that Frey wouldn’t give him more than that until they joined the others – and focused on filling his stomach.

That was one deprivation at least, that was fixed with ease and a god’s metabolism.

The rest…well.

He _was_ a god.

Anything that required time, would have more than enough of it handy to finally heal, no matter how long it took.

…

“So,” Phil, ensconced on one of the surviving couches of the rumpus room with Clint hovering – literally as he was perched on the back of Phil’s seat – over him, said once Frey and Loki did their, as Clint had so elegantly put it at one point – _popping thing_ to join the others.  “Pepper said something about a brainstorm, Frey?”  He asked mildly.  “Care to share with the class?”

“Plots within schemes.”  Frey gave his friend a half-smirk.  “You know me…”  Frey did a very visible headcount of the room.  “Third best of those here.  Maybe fourth depending on how much Jarvis has ascertained.”

More than one laugh followed _that_ statement as Frey looked up dramatically and winked at the ceiling, only to startle himself – Clint winning the jumpy-cat contest as he fell off his perch – when with a showy dance of light, a hologram of Jarvis’s render was formed and stood at parade-rest beside his creator, Tony obviously _reveling_ in the shock – and more than a little awe from Bruce and a few others who _understood_ the effort Jarvis represented, which to Tony’s half-surprise and half-bemusement included the alien trinity – of the others.

“Two things came to mind once I got a good look at the damage post-battle.”  Frey began after the splutters over Jarvis’s render had died down.  He was a construct created by an inventor who worked primarily from holograms and 3D tech.  Frey would’ve been surprised if Jarvis _didn’t_ have a render. 

Though he had to admit, a lanky 6’ 3” blond with eyes the same electric blue as the holograms Tony preferred would not have been his first guess.

“Restoration and managing the media fallout.”  Frey flicked up two fingers in a V shape as he rattled off the areas of concern.  “Granted – the battle wasn’t our faults – per se.”  He arched a brow at his father who rolled his eyes.  “But that’s not going to matter to the people who use it to push their agendas – or the public who will buy into it if they don’t have another story to fall in love with.”

“You know.”  Steve mentioned in an aside to the others, Frey ignoring him he had a silent argument with his father – though it seemed to end in a draw to both gods’ disdain and Thor’s amusement.  “The more he talks like this, the more I believe that SHIELD never would have cottoned onto him if he hadn’t shown up in New Mexico.”

“Blame Thor.”  Loki said immediately, wrinkling his nose at his adoptive big-brother who had co-opted a wall to lean against in distrust of the furniture after more than one near-miss over the previous night.  “He’s the one who threw a tantrum and got put in time out.”

Thor blushed and looked away from his twinkle-eyed brother, Natasha muttering to Clint who was seated between her and his husband: “Am I the only one disturbed that he just described an event that changed the face of this world – and result in over a hundred deaths if the number Frey gave us was right – as a _tantrum_?”

Nods abounded from the human – or mostly human in the case of Bruce – Avengers while Pepper picked the thread of the conversation back up before they could get too far off track.

“Social media, that’s where you’re going with this isn’t it?”  She asked with her razor-sharp shrewd insight that deftly piloted Stark Industries from arms manufacturer to more humanitarian pursuits without bankrupting in the court of public opinion.

Frey nodded, “it’ll feel more honest, sincere and/or genuine that way, I think.”  He wove a hand, otherwise remaining utterly still as he spoke in contrast to the often frenetic energy of most of the others present in the room.

It was something Tony and Bruce had both picked up on in the helicarrier lab.

Unless he was in movement for some purpose or another, Frey was almost unnaturally still.

Utter control.

Not a single movement wasted, everything to illustrate or make a point – or to gain information.

Loki – now that his brain wasn’t highjacked – seemed similar.

Quiet, watchful; but quick to spring into action or violence or movement as he deemed needed.

It was interesting, and very much not the norm for most people.

Which was kinda the byword for both of these particular beings after all.

Steve raised a hand.  “Social media?”

“Not up to the 2000’s yet on your cultural immersion program?”  Natasha asked with a soft smile floating over her face.

“Not quite.”  Steve shrugged.  “I got to the ‘60’s and had to take a break.”

Tony snickered good-naturedly, joined by a coughing laugh from most of the others, as thanks to Loki’s involvement with Frey, only Thor didn’t understand the reference – or even what _century_ that reference was referencing, though it would surprise most of them to know that Thor could navigate both Google and YouTube with ease.

Jarvis had an octo-box up on the blank wall Tony had been using as his main monitor earlier with a flicker of his processor, showing – and scrolling – through various online news feeds, blogs, vlogs, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, the works.

“It’s what it sounds like.”  Pepper supplied.  “Websites, forums, what have you, that are the cyber equivalent of a barbershop or café in the 40’s.  They share everything from their thoughts on everything-and-anything to advice to support groups to whatever.  If there’s something you’re into – or even mildly curious about – you can find it with social media and the internet.  That said, I still want to hear what your full idea is, Frey.”

“The works.”  Frey told her.  “With a multi-tiered attack to take control of our own press – and control/steer the conversation where we can.  All depending on what feels the most _organic_ for each member of the Avengers.  Which means our friendly neighborhood spies will likely only show up on the others’ feeds…which is ideal, actually, since it wouldn’t mesh well with the mystery I’d like to cultivate around Hawkeye and the Black Widow in particular.”

“Not yourself?”  Phil murmured, smiling a bit.

“I’m too realistic for that.”  He said drily.  “I already set in place a few safeguards that should keep their identities from being outed.”

“Would that be similar to whatever voodoo you used to keep the others from recognizing you as looking – just a lot – like Real Power, here?”  Tony asked, jerking his head towards Loki.

“Mmm.”  Frey waggled a hand from side to side.  “Kinda but not really.  What I’ve done so far was make sure that no one could get footage of them in action yesterday and from anything unfavorable spilling onto the internet.”

“Which does explain, sir.”  Jarvis piped up.  “Why, even though I _know_ it existed at one point, I was unable to… _acquire_ the footage from Stuttgart.”

“ _That’s_ what you were doing buried in SHIELD’s servers?”  Phil’s brows shot up.  “Damn.  I owe Nick ten bucks…”

“Yeah?”  Clint looked down at his husband, having reclaimed his seat behind him.  “What did you bet on, babe, Nat?”

“Keeping our systems from effectively tracking Loki.”  Natasha admitted after a long pause.  “I knew there was _something_ there, but wasn’t able to tell what.”

“Same as Stark was doing.”  Phil shrugged.  “But with the knowledge that he’d warned us against doing exactly what the WSC ended up pushing Nick to do.  I figured he’d corrupt the information or just out-right erase it, he’d been emphatic enough over not tweaking the devil’s tail with _escalation_.”

“And yet did they listen…?”  Frey muttered, scowling at nothing.  “No. ‘We have an expert who is willing to share knowledge and advice, and who we’re 99% sure is an actual alien being, but we’re not going to _listen_ to him because _we know better_.’” Frey mocked, entertaining the others – and showing for real just how much that was still bothering him.  “Idiots.”  He spat with relish.  “I half-wish Tony could’ve shoved that nuke up _their_ collective asses instead of the Chitauri’s.”

“You know both Thor and I will need to return to our homes in the Yggdrasil.”  Loki reminded his son to get him back on-track.  “Your grandbera and grandsire, not to mention the rest of that lot, will want to oversee my recovery themselves before I will be able to return.”

To ascertain that he _was_ , actually, whole if with a few cracks showing here and there from a for-once-not-his-fault misadventure.

Frey just scowled and crossed his arms, very much _not okay_ with his father leaving so soon but accepting that the rest of their family deserved to see him and help in his recovery.

“Okay…”  Tony drawled, arching a brow.  “Why do I feel like we’re missing something.  Can’t you just pop up to Giant-Smurf-Land whenever you want?  Why the pout?”

And yes, Tony thought as Frey sneered at the question and Loki started snickering, Thor just looking uncomfortable, it _was_ a pout.  Especially when Thor said something in one of those languages Jarvis can’t translate that had Frey’s glare shifting from being in general to roasting the big lug where he stood to the side of the group leaning against the wall.  Tony hoped that at some point they got a translation for some of the languages the three beings used for his own sanity and voracious need-to-know if nothing else.

“Frey is an acknowledged, legitimate heir to two thrones,” Thor provided, looking away from the being in question when he snarled and shifted, very much _not comfortable_ with the conversational turn.  “Though closer to one than the other.”

The others just frowned or shrugged, except for Phil who whipped his head around to stare at Frey with an inkling of understanding on his face.

“Dynastic?”  The super-handler asked with more than a little sympathy.

Frey grimaced and shrugged.  “If I’m not there, no one can broach the subject.  I’ve no desire to bind myself to another as of yet.”

“Woah, woah, woah.”  Clint clicked onto the subject quicker than most would have thought.  “Are you talking about _marriage_?  You’re afraid to go home because someone wants you to get married?”  And promptly fell over laughing at the pissy look on all three of the extraterrestrials’ faces.

“Commitment-phobic, hmm?”  Pepper asked with an arch look at Tony.  A kind of _wonder who else I know is like that_ look.

“Not at all.”  Frey decided to step up and clear the subject to get back to planning now that it’d been brought up.  “I’ve been handfasted…”  He pondered then glanced at his father.  “Four times?  Or did Either Charles or Harry count?”

“Neither did by our measures.”  Loki answered with a smirk.  “Though by their own both might consider themselves to have been your husband, if only for a time with Harry, notorious twat that he was.  At least you didn’t have to lose your head to cut loose of him.”

“Why do I have a feeling they’re discussing Henry the VIII?”  Bruce asked Natasha, who also looked mystified over _how_ there could be debate one, over how many times someone has been married wouldn’t they know?  And two, that one of those marriages was to Henry Tudor.

“Because we are.”  Loki’s smirk looked permanently etched into his face by now.  “Not _this_ ‘verse’s Henry but another.  There was no better training ground for my son or daughter than the Tudor Court for teaching both politics and spycraft.”

“Well, I find that vaguely terrifying.”  Tony decided, Pepper and Bruce both giving laughing agreements.  “Also, daughter?”

“I am a shapeshifter.”  Loki cocked his head to one side, trading his smirk for one of those satisfied-kitty smiles he does so well.  “Why would you think my son was not?”

Tony just stared at Frey, mind totally blown – and having taken a very dirty detour into the gutter – when Frey finally explained the issue with going home for him in full.

“I was raised on Earth, so this _is_ my home, thank you very much.”  Frey bit out before mellowing a bit.  “Returning to either Asgard or Jotunheim runs the chance of either my grandmother Frigga or my grandparents Laufey and Farbauti attempting to arrange a dynastic binding as you suggested Phil.  It is an expectation given that none of the current heirs of Asgard nor the Crown Prince of Jotunheim have settled into a permanent bond with a chosen that we at least be _open_ to an arrangement with Jotunheim retaking its former position in the Yggdrasil.”

The others chewed on that a moment when Natasha twigged it.

“Wait, all _three_ of you?”  She arched a red brow with a whistle.  “Yikes, no wonder Asgard at least is getting antsy.”

They shrugged almost in unison then Thor complained: “I still have two half-brothers, one eligible and one not.  I do not have much anxiety regarding the subject, but I have not traveled and lived as freely as my brother and Frey have done.”

“I just don’t like being forced into…”  Frey grimaced.  “Anything really.  And while they wouldn’t force my hand, they would use the old standby of familial pressure and, well, _pass_ , so yes, I will miss my father while he’s recuperating on Jotunheim but before either Thor or father leaves I was hoping for maybe some press-ops with the restoration…”

Frey left out, on purpose, that he wouldn’t put it passed Odin to try and force him into a marriage if he returned to Asgard, but left it unsaid as he didn’t want to upset either Thor or his father, though more for Loki’s sake than anything.

 _Why_ Loki still gave a damn about the old bastard Frey didn’t know, or what it would take for that to finally abate enough that it wouldn’t devastate him to have Odin and Frey at odds, but until that day came to pass, Frey would _try_ and keep moderately civil regarding the issue…no matter how bad he wanted to kick Odin’s old ass.

…

Frey and Pepper joined forces to set up their plan of attack, all watched with varying levels of amusement by the Avengers with the more media-savvy, which included Loki, throwing in ideas where they saw opportunity before the first set were sent off to start helping with the restoration, mainly the trio of Thor, Steve, and Loki with the latter only going to throw around some simple but flashy spells that would help but more draw positive attention to him before he had to leave later that night.

An event which had Tony and Bruce in raptures over the data readings they got of Frey taking Loki away in a step into the shadows, but led Tony to finding a morose Thor sulking into his mead in the semi-repaired rumpus room.

“Why the long face big fella?”  Tony asked as he stationed himself in the “his” spot on the couch, Dummy and You trailing behind him like a pair of clucking and clanking nursemaids.  “They’ll be back.  Frey said early as the morning after he goes…”  Tony fluttered his fingers.  “Somewhere to check in on someone.  He wasn’t quite clear.”

“He goes to his birth place.”  Thor muttered, scowling down into his drink.  He very much _did not_ want to have this discussion with Tony Stark of all humans.  Tony Stark of the sparkling devil-may-care wit and ecstatic energy that had done naught but flirt and tease with Frey since the moment they met as far as Thor could tell.  “Loki wishes to see his grandchildren.”

“Woah, big fella.”  Tony blinked and reared back in his seat a little even as You brought him his pills and Dummy a bottle of water.  “Grandkids?  As in Frey…”

“Yes.”  Thor nodded, blond hair shifting and spilling all over his shoulders as he hunched down further over the bar he was leaning on, not trusting the furnishings beyond the beds to support him and even then he was leery.  “Three beautiful children with his first handfasted-husband.  Though I know not if Frey ever has had another since the triplets.”  Thor’s voice drifted off.  “If so, no mention has ever been made of them in all the years I’ve known of Frey Lokison – even before I knew him _as_ a Lokison.”

“Okay…”  Tony let that process and slide into place against what he knew about the flirty – and damn smart – alien.  “Kids.  Wow.  No idea.”

“They live in another ‘verse.”  Thor shrugged.  “One that moves out of time with this one.  They age faster as time spins faster there.  But they are good children if very much like Frey and Loki in temperament.”

“Sounds like you’ve met them.”

“I have.”  Thor admitted.  “Spent some weeks there waiting for Frey to return from a trip elsewhere while Loki’s disappearance was fresh.  Frey has been most blessed in his children, even if I do not envy him the pain once they are gone.”  Thor explained when Tony frowned in confusion.  “His children were with a mortal, Man of Iron.  They will live mortal lives.  Frey knew this before their births yet circumstances demanded children of him regardless of the pain he will feel watching each and every generation of his in that ‘verse age and pass away before him.  In this, Frey Haraldr Lokison is a braver man than any Aesir I have ever known.  To know of this pain and accept it into his heart anyway.”  Thor looked away, hiding his expression once more as even to his own ears his tone turned bitter.  “And yet there are those who would push him for a true marriage and children despite the wounds on his heart that may never heal.”

Tony honestly didn’t know what the fuck to do with this outpouring from the big lunk, other than sit there and listen and reevaluate what he thought he knew about both of them: Frey and Thor, and what that meant both for him personally and for the Avengers at large and the world they’d sworn to protect.

“When Frey spoke of eligible matches, do you know aught of what that _means_ for the fourth in line to the Asgardian throne, Man of Iron?”  Thor demanded in a sudden spat of temper.  “No,” Thor scoffed rolling his eyes.  “How could you.  There are only,” Thor did a quick count.  “Perhaps, a handful of eligible matches for a Prince of Frey’s standing and family line, let alone his own accomplishments.  Freyr, King of Vanaheim; Nuada Silverlance who you have met, exiled Prince of Alfheim, though long I have thought that perhaps he might make a match of it with Loki; Nuada’s sister Nuala, Princess of Alfheim; my half-brother Baldur the White, third in line for the throne.”

Tony’s eyes shot wide and his head whipped around, meeting stormy blue eyes where lightning crashed and cracked, revealing the temper and hurt that Thor was _attempting_ to drown in weak mortal booze.

“Ah,” Thor drawled, a nasty sneer at odds with the normal affable expression on his handsome face.  “I see you’ve realized.  Yes.”  Thor took another long draft of the weak Midgardian beer before setting it aside in disgust.  “And, of course, my father’s preference: myself.”

“Aren’t you…”  Tony started to ask, only to mentally kick himself when Thor snorted.  Adopted.  Right.

“None would _dare_ suggest to either myself or Loki that two who were raised as brothers bind themselves together.”   Thor snorted at the mere suggestion.  “Nor would they expect Loki to wed with any of the line of Odin given that he was raised amongst the three sons and multiple nephews and nieces of my father.”

“Three?”

“Bragi, the result of an indiscretion in Odin’s youth.”  Frey filled in as he stepped from the shadows having eavesdropped quite long enough.  “Eldest of the three but not legible for the throne and being ineligible for the throne make him ineligible a match for me.  Covering family drama both ancient and recent, Thor?”

“More filling me in on some Asgardian politics.”  Tony let the big guy off the hook, not so cruel as to reveal that he was angsting over a possible arranged marriage to Frey.  Like _that_ would be such a hardship, though Tony was getting the feeling that it was more hurt feelings over how _not interested_ in the subject Frey was than anything else.  Which added a whole ‘nother aspect to both of their behaviors over the last week or so.  “Fourth in line, huh?”

Frey shrugged and wandered over to drop down next to Tony, willing to let the subject go since Thor decided in discretion being the better part of valor on this occasion, slinking off towards the elevators rather than stick around now that the object of his sulk had returned.

“And would have been second in line for Jotunheim if Far had known of his own status at the time.”  Frey told him as he slumped into Tony’s side a bit, pleased when the inventor didn’t even try to move but just let him settle in and watch as he brought up one of his VR holo-screens.  “But he didn’t so certain protocols weren’t followed.  Now I’m only above Thor and the rest of Odin’s line for the Jotunheim succession, eleventh or something like that, meaning that despite having me, Far still has to provide an eligible heir to be Crown Prince once he takes up the throne, as his siblings and their offspring aren’t quite what is needed.”

“What is needed?”

“An invidja, what you would call a sorcerer.”  Frey told him around a yawn.  “One of my cousins has a decent amount of power but didn’t make the cut to be heir.  So Far will have to give me a little intersexed Jotnar sibling eventually.”

“Intersexed?”  Tony’s brows rose, only for his curiosity to remain unsatisfied.

Frey had fallen asleep against his shoulder with a hand covering the arc reactor between one breath and the next.

“Jarvis, lights lowered to fifteen percent please.”  Tony asked, voice quiet even as You wheeled over with a soft blanket from the bedroom, one of Tony’s favorites and handed it over.

Frey hadn’t been kidding.

He really _wasn’t_ back up to spec yet after all the days of not-sleeping on the helicarrier.

That was just fine with Tony, even if having an alien demi-god/god-being falling asleep on him wasn’t just something that happened every day.

It happened, and soon Thunder Butt would be back up on Asgard with the rest of the golden giants, and Frey would still be here on Earth, ducking the attempts to marry him off like a pro while working with the rest of them.

Yeah, it sucked that Mr. Sexy-Smile-and-Sexier-Brain had that hanging over him, but for now, he was Earth’s, an Earth that was Tony’s and he was going to take full advantage of that for as long as he can.


End file.
